Familiar Encounters
by SilenceIsInfinite
Summary: Max is the new girl on the block in Arizona. A huge change from previously living in Maine. But she's got a secret, one that impacts her life dramatically. It brings lies, and ruins Max's relationships. Will Arizona be any different, or will Max have to struggle alone?
1. Chapter 1

**Hey! Okay, this is my first fanfic, and I'm so nervous. This is the first chapter of Familiar Encounters!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride, unfortunately. James Patterson does!**

**Hope you like! **

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Okay, I admit it. I honestly wanted to murder someone after I heard that I was moving from Maine. To stupid freaking Arizona, at that. And honestly? That was the worst 'grieving' present from anyone that I could get, seeing as my mother died not even a month ago, forcing me to live with my dad. If that's what he should be classified as, that is. But enough, whining won't bring her back, or change daddy dearest's mind. And I hate being weak.

"Max, hurry it up. We're here." Dad – Jeb's muffled voice from the outside of the car woke me up from my inner monologue. When did we get here? I swear, we were just on the plane.

Sighing, I grabbed boxes after boxes into our _lovely _home—almost vomiting at the horrible shade of blue it was—and flopped onto my bed once scattering a pathway to my room from all the cardboard. And wham, now I got a good look at my room.

It was freaking _awesome_, and I was surprised that Jeb had done something useful for once. The walls were black, but splatter-painted with a bright purple on three of the walls. The last wall, however, was just a huge white window that led out to a balcony. And on the house right next to ours, there was an identical balcony—ours almost touched. I know.

Like Romeo and Juliet. Woo?

My bed was caked with pillows that littered the surface—the colors were red and black—and underneath was a white comforter that screamed bliss. Posters of my favorite bands took up space on the walls: All Time Low, Three Days Grace, Skillet, The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus, Orianthi, and Hey Monday; and a shelf was filled to the brim with CDs. Suddenly, I didn't mind moving here.

Jeb walked in and let a low whistle. "You like it, then?" he asked, gesturing to my amazing room. I looked at him like he was insane. Maybe he was.

"Are you kidding? I love it." A huge grin spread across my face.

"Good. Now finish unpacking, we're going to meet our neighbors for dinner now. They have a son who is fifteen as well." He pondered what to say next, and took off his belt. Jeb threw it at me. "I know you can tuck them in, but use this to make sure they're folded tightly."

I rolled my eyes, and grudgingly took the belt. It was a nice black color. "I wouldn't have to take it if you hadn't put _wings _on my back."

Oh yeah. I have wings.

Jeb is a genetic scientist, and he and my mom split up due to him being overly obsessive about his job. And for what he did to me: gave me wings. Then again, I can't really say that like he gave me a _present_. These things practically ruined my life, minus the fact that I could _fly_. Because that was pretty badass. Jeb grafted avian DNA into me when I was eleven, making me ninety-eight percent human, two percent avian. Or, bird. Yeah, I eat like a truck driver.

I sighed loudly as he left the room, and took off my shirt, extending my wings out to their full length of fourteen feet. They were white and tan and speckled, some feathers looking translucent against the light pouring through the window in my room. It felt so _good _to have my wings spread out, after being pulled so tightly for the entire day.

The belt clanged as I pulled it tightly over my wings, and then threw on an outfit: a dark red t-shirt that said _'Come to the nerd side, we have Pi' _on it, black skinny jeans, and my red converse. My hair blonde-streaked brown hair was left down, cascading in waves by my shoulders.

How poetic.

I ran down the stairs as Jeb opened the door. He looked at me up and down. "Someone isn't trying to impress, I see."

I rolled my eyes. "Come on."

We walked across our lawn and stopped at the house next door, a plain looking home with a gorgeous garden in the back. It looked like it was cared for every single day, and flourished with daisies, lilacs, and pansies. I knocked on the door, and heard a muffled "I'll get it!" from the other side of the door. The door opened, but I didn't see anyone.

"Hi!" I looked around, and still didn't see anyone. And then I looked down.

There was an adorable little girl standing behind the door that was opened fully, inviting us into their home. She had blonde hair that lapped around her head in a halo, and she seemed almost angelic. Her crystal blue eyes were wide and innocent, and she seemed to be around six years old.

"I'm Angel. Are you the Batchelders?" Oh, such a fitting name. _Angel_. It's like her parents _knew_.

"Yeah, we're here for dinner. I'm Jeb, and this is my daughter Maximum." He gestured to me with a wave, and Angel giggled at my name. Dear God she was so cute.

The smell of cookies in the oven brought me back to my senses. "Call me Max. Can we come in?" I used the voice that I saved for kids, even though I was horrible at talking to people younger than me. Angel giggled again. Was I drooling? Chocolate chip cookies were like life, I couldn't live without them; and the smell wafting from the kitchen was pulling me back into a trance. I sniffed eagerly, and Angel let us in their house; leading us into the living room.

Just like the outside of their property, the inside just as simple. The living room had a white couch in the center, and an equally white coffee table was sitting in front of it. Odd, all of their furniture seemed to be white. The rug, the lamps, even the television's border; it was all white. Very odd. It reminded me of all the times I had to go to the School for tests.

I shuddered at the thought of the School. Thank God that Jeb saved me from that place.

Our neighbors, the Richards, were very nice people. Mariah, the mother, had olive toned skin and long black hair. Her eyes were exact copies of Angel's, though, bright blue. Her smile was killer, and she seemed kind. Daniel, the father, had blonde hair just like Angel's, but oddly enough, had eyes of coal. Seriously, they seemed like never ending pools of darkness, like black holes that swallowed up the pupil of the eye. He easily cleared six and a half feet, and had lines by his mouth from laughing so much.

"Angel, get your brothers. Maybe you and Max can play with them?" His tone was gentle as he pat her little head. Angel grinned instantly, agreeing. She dragged me upstairs to where I assumed all of the bedrooms lay. Angel pointed to a door that said CAUTION: KEEP OUT on it in black lettering.

"That's Fang's room. I think he's sleeping, so you can wake him up. I'll get Gazzy." What kind of names did these children have? Poor family.

Quietly—for fear that this Fang kid was asleep—I opened the black door, and found a completely different room than the rest of the house.

The walls were all black, and a window almost identical to mine sat against the right wall, leading to a balcony that faced mine. He had posters of his favorite bands on them, such as Three Doors Down and Linkin Park. I was surprised to see a poster of one of my favorite bands, The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus, on the wall as well. I had the same poster. CDs littered the floor next to a stereo on his nightstand, which was equally as black as the rest of the room. The ceiling was caked with glow and the dark stars. I picked a CD up and smirked as I read the words _Fearless _on the cover.

Someone was a closet Taylor Swift fan.

The lights were all off in the room, so I turned them on. Fang was still sleeping like an idiot, probably sleeping heavily. I tiptoed closer to his bed to get a better look at him, and was surprised to see his features.

Fang had black hair that stopped at the middle of his neck, some of it flopping over his eyes. Holy shit, his eyes. They were just like Daniel's, but upon closer view, had gold flecks in them. He had olive-toned skin, and he seemed so peaceful when he slept. Fang was wearing a black t-shirt and black jeans, and still wore his shoes on. It looked as if he had just jumped into bed, not even bothering to pull the—congrats, you guessed it—black blankets over him. His breathing hitched, and he started thrashing in his sleep. I stepped back on reflex. And all of a sudden, tears started flowing down his eyes in his sleep.

"Fang?" I asked quietly. He didn't wake up, and I was started to get a little freaked out by this kid. "Fang."

_Count to three. If he doesn't wake up, then you have the right to go to his bathroom and throw water on him. _One, two, three… On the count of three, he sprung up. Again, freaked out, I stepped back.

He looked at me, and felt the tears on his face. Fang rubbed his eyes, and then looked back at me again. As if he was still dreaming.

I sighed. "Dinner's ready." _Really, Max? Out of all the things you could have said, you decided on 'dinner's ready'_? "Brush your hair, you look like a zombie. I get that you had a rough dream, but I'm freaking starving." I threw him a brush from his nightstand, and started to leave. On second thought, I looked back.

"Oh, and nice Taylor Swift CDs." I smirked. He looked at me with an impassive stare. He opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it. Good boy. I laughed as I closed the door behind me.

* * *

I plowed through dinner, amazed at how good of a cook Daniel was. When I told him this, he blushed and said "he wasn't as good as Mariah". I officially loved this family.

Throughout dinner, I couldn't help but notice that Fang was staring at me out of the corner of his eyes. He sat on my left, eating just as much as me, if not more. That kid had an appetite. Conversation was staggered throughout the meal, but it was mostly the parents talking. Angel and her brother, who I'd learned was named Gazzy, were sitting next to each other and talking about complete nonsense. They were adorable.

I didn't speak at all, until I heard my name mentioned in a conversation. I heard bits and pieces of a word exchange, but still couldn't pick up on what they were talking about.

"So, Max, how do you like Arizona?" Daniel asked. I thought about it for a minute. How _was _Arizona?

"Completely and utterly different. It's hot here, and Maine was like an iceberg. I hate cold weather." I made the universal 'keep quiet' signal, putting a fingers to my lips and winking. Daniel laughed.

"I'm glad you like it, then. So, what are your hobbies?"

_Flying? No, I can't say that. _I thought back on what I did at my old school. "I'm big on music and sports, and drawing. Definitely." It was true. I was part of the art club at my old school, and won tons of prizes for my art. As it was obvious from my posters on the wall, I was also a huge music fanatic. I basically breathed it in. I laughed at the thought, and Daniel looked at me.

"Really. What sports did you play, and what instruments for music? Fang over here seems to have the same interests." _Really? _That was news. Fang picked at his food, obviously listening into our conversations.

"I played soccer, basketball, and ran track. Uh, I can street fight, if that counts. Also, I play the guitar and sing a little." I shrugged.

Dinner went on like that, more peeping into my life. As dessert rolled around, I noticed that Fang never talked once. When I asked Angel, she nodded her head.

"He doesn't talk to a lot of a people. Daddy and Fang aren't on the best terms, but Daddy is nice enough to talk good about him." Angel put a finger to her chin, as if pondering on saying anything else. "You should try talking to him."

I shrugged. I did a lot of that lately, I guess. I reached for another cookie at the same time as Fang, and I looked down. It was last one. He grabbed it faster than I could make a game plan, and stuffed it in his mouth. When Fang swallowed, he stuck his tongue out at me. Oh, he did not just do that.

"Why yes, yes I did." _Did I just say that out loud_? I face-palmed inwardly, but then noticed that it was the first thing Fang had said to me all night. He had an amused expression on his face, and was smirking.

"Well, when I become the ruler of the world someday, I know now who is going to die a painful death." _Yeah, if a mutant bird kid could become the ruler. I could pass as an Angel, maybe_.

"Is that a challenge?" He looked at me with his dark eyes, and I could see my chocolate eyes in his reflection.

"Is there a problem with that, emo boy?" I taunted. He shook his head.

"Oh, hell no. It's on."

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**There you go! First chapter is up! R&R for more :3 **

**~SilenceIsInfinite**


	2. Chapter 2

We were circling each other, waiting for the first move. Fang didn't stand a chance, wasn't it obvious? He heard Daniel and I talking about my street fighting for a good twenty minutes that he had to _excuse himself _afterwards. Please.

Angel and Gazzy were sitting on the steps of the Richards' backyard, watching us with curious eyes. Wasn't it obvious what we were doing?

"Are you regretting this, emo boy?" I asked. Huh. I hope that name won't stick. When Fang didn't say anything back to me, I was starting to get a little pissed. "You know, it's like I'm talking to a brick wall here."

If Fang was amused by that comment, he didn't show it. "I have that affect on people."

Snarling, I made my move. Fang's jaw connected with my fist. I pulled back, dodging a punch that whirled past my ear. Fang spit on the grass. "Aw, did Fangles get a boo-boo?" I used the same voice that I gave Angel. I could almost see the steam coming out of his ears, and I scoffed.

_Focus on your moves, not on your emotions. Don't let them over power you. _I repeated this in my head twice as I landed a solid kick to Fang's stomach, and watched as his breath got knocked out of him. Huzzah.

"I'm quite disappointed, Max. Is this all you've got?" _Don't let them over power you, Max. Control your emotions. _Ah, what the hell. I slapped Fang's face, feigning hurt. This is what street fighting was all about. It wasn't about your moves as much as outsmarting your opponent. Fang blinked a couple of times in surprise. He was probably getting used to my whole 'punch and kick' style, and slapping wasn't really a part of the deal. Or so he thought.

I put my hands down at my sides, a sad look on my face. Fang barely knew me, it wasn't like he knew I wouldn't back down. "Max?" he said. He looked at my hands that were on my sides. "What's up?"

"My mom always had so many expectations of me. It was like she was never happy with what I did. That kind of hurt, Fang." He blinked a couple times. Bingo.

All of a sudden, I punched his nose, hearing a loud crack. I landed a few more kicks on to him, not getting any solid places yet. I was about to kick him where it counted, but he grabbed my foot. He couldn't have fought back, his nose was gushing blood. Or so I thought.

He smirked at me, and pushed me down. He kicked my stomach. "That was pretty good. I thought you were weak, just like every other girl I know."

That was confusing. I was different? I chuckled. "Looks like you've got me." Then I pinned him down on the grass, not noticing how close we were together—his face was inches from mine.

His breath caught mine, and suddenly I couldn't move. _Move, idiot! Move! _"Max? You can get up."

I felt a blush creeping up my neck and onto my cheeks, and prayed to God that he couldn't see my blush. "Fine. But I win."

Fang smirked again, and I got off of him. I held up a hand and pulled him up, suddenly amazed at how light he was. Well, that wouldn't do. "Geez, Fang. You weigh a ton. What are in your pockets, rocks?"

"Why, is your head missing some?"

"Nah, I'm pretty keen on sharing. Unlike _someone _I know."

"Who, Angel? She's a demon sometimes."

"That's contradicting," I observed, wrinkling my eyebrows in thought. And then, the two of us burst into laughter. It was weird, seeing someone who could keep up with me.

We turned back to Angel and Gazzy. "Now kids," I started. "In that fight, Fang was a sexist pig who had stolen my cookie, preying on a woman due to a thought that we were doormats. I, on the other hand, brought justice." They looked at me with a puzzled expression on their face, as if not understanding.

Fang rolled his eyes. Ah, the woes of Maximum Ride.

We cleaned up—I had to put Fang's nose back into place; _that _was disgusting—and talked to one another about nothing and everything for the next hour that I was at the Richards' house. Fang was pretty cool: we liked the same type of music, and he told me that he ran track at the school I'd be attending next week. Fang also drew, and said it was a possibility that we could be in the same art class.

"Max, we're leaving!" Jeb screamed. I looked at Fang, surprised that I'd gotten along with him so easily. Usually, people never talked to me. Then again, I guess he got over it after I punched his lights out. Stretching, I held out a fist to Fang.

"See you, Fangles." I stuck out my tongue, then remembered something that had really annoyed him. "Maybe we can trade Taylor Swift CDs sometime?"

Fang laughed. A real laugh, and I couldn't help but stare for a few seconds. He had Mariah's smile, and it showed rows of perfect teeth. Fang had a nice smile.

Because I'm an idiot, and because I hadn't caught what he'd said after my little comment, I made a weird mistake. "You should laugh more often."

Face. Palm.

"I've never heard that before," Fang said truthfully. And then he smirked."That's why I don't smile. But, thanks?"

_Oh God this was so awkward someone bury me—no, murder me—in a sack and then cut up my dead body to bits and then feed them to an angry bear while taking a pic—_"Max?" Fang looked at me like I was insane. My eyes must have been darting across the floor, because I suddenly felt dizzy.

"Ah, yeah. See you later, Fangles." I punched his arm playfully.

That night, Jeb allowed me to go outside and fly around for a bit. "Don't stay out after one, because I know you're awful with time. This'll help you get to know Arizona better." Did the almighty Jeb—okay, I can't even _think _that without laughing—just allow my curfew to be bumped up for three hours? Indeed!

"You got it, dude."

"Max, never use a Full House reference again. That was awful." Jeb frowned at my comment.

I laughed, hugged him, and then went to my room. I switched into one of my shirts that had slits in the back for my wings, and finally let the belt that confined them loose.

"Ah," I sighed in relief. My wings felt so cramped, I was sure they'd be sore tomorrow. I went over to my window and onto the balcony, and shot up into the air.

I will never get used to the feeling of flying. It's so much _fun, _so _incredible _every single time I unfurl my wings. I began to pick up speed, circling the small town in which I lived in. _Where to? _I thought, scanning the area. With my raptor vision, I could easily see the stores and little shops scattered around here and there. The town square was brightly lit, a large fountain in the middle of of it. There were people everywhere, given that it was only eight o' clock into the night. My stomach growled when I spotted a small café by the name of The Tess Project. It sounded like a six grader's assignment, but I was hungry. And I could use some food, as I couldn't eat as much as I'd like. Too many stares from Daniel and Mariah.

At Tess's—the project part really wouldn't stick for me—I took a seat at one of the booths, making sure that my wings were folded tightly behind me.

A waitress about my age came to my booth with a pen and pencil. Her name was Ella, from her nametag, and she had fair skin and brown eyes. She looked Hispanic, possibly Mexican. I felt like I've flown there at one point.

"Ready to order?" she asked me. Ella was chewing gum, a bubbly expression on her face. She looked happy to be here. Score one for her.

"Yeah." I smiled, though it was a little forced. Ella was a little _too _happy. "I'll just have a coffee, black." She blinked at my coffee preferences as she wrote it down, and then smiled back at me.

"Sure thing! It'll be done in a couple minutes with that simple of an order." I laughed again and watched as she left.

The café was kind of cute, to be honest. It had pictures of a woman who must have been named Tess, as she showed up in almost all of the pictures on the walls. There were others, though, of customers or the typical 'Employee of the Month'. The walls were a baby blue, and the floor was tiled with a pale yellow and white. It all screamed _bird nest _in a way, the way the colors contrasted. The booths were wooden with dark blue seats.

"Here you are," Ella said. She fiddled around the pocket of her apron, searching for a straw—if I ever needed one. "You just have to pay up front. And then you're good to go."

I sipped my coffee. _Man, Tess, you're a genius, _I thought to myself. This was actually some really good coffee. I found my eyes wandering back to the pictures on the wall until my drink was drained. I paid for it and walked to the back of the store by an alleyway, getting running start before seeing other sights.

Back in the air, I did all sorts of tricks to keep myself busy. At home, all I would be was stuck in a room. I might as well enjoy my time in the air.

All of a sudden, it got really windy. _Maybe I'm flying too high? _I asked myself. I lowered altitude, going just above the clouds. I couldn't let people see me, I'd be a freak. Or, well, people would _know _I was a freak. But still. Just my luck, it started raining. It wasn't that little drizzle of _Oh, I'm just going to freshen up these plants, don't mind me! _kind of rain, it was a _here, let me just make you think you're going to get electrocuted _type. Thunder crashed into my eardrums, and I was already seeing flashes of lightning in the distance. I needed to land.

I decided to go back to the alleyway, where the shadows of the buildings protected me from rain. I was soaking wet, and my wings felt heavy against me; even when I shook them out. And it was freezing.

_Arizona, be hot and sticky like before! _I commanded. Lightning flashed brightly. _Please? _

Wind started picking up. Was Mother Nature PMSing or something? I couldn't tell. I didn't know how long I was there, either, in the storm, until I heard footsteps behind me. Footsteps that didn't scream _we're selling the New York Post_.

"Hey, look! It's a chick!" Oh, they did _not _just call me that. I snarled. "We'll finally get a promotion." The owner of the voice slurred the words. He was drunk. Very drunk.

Another voice, this one very deep, agreed with him. "Why don't we warm her up?" If he was thinking about _raping _me, I think we had a problem here.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" I snapped, standing up. I could take these guys. "I'm not going to stand around getting raped while you disgusting pieces of dust talk about me. It's vile and I don't-" I stopped talking then. He pulled out a gun.

Now, as much as I'm a great fighter and a mutant and probably five times stronger than these idiots, I wasn't freaking _bullet proof_. No way. What was I going to do?

"Now come with us, sweetie." The slurred words just made me want to vomit. "Come on! Up!" Agitated, he fired a bullet five feet to my right. Okay, he wasn't kidding.

Why was it that I was always getting into fights these days?


	3. Chapter 3

Okay, this wouldn't do. Standing around while some rapists hold a gun to your face? Yeah, I'm not up for that. For a sole reason, actually: I'm not a damsel in distress. Well, I don't damsel well. Distress? I can do. Damseling? Not so much.

Even if that isn't really a word.

So while they came closer to me, I was thinking about all of those techniques Jeb had taught me for self defense, racking my brain for any answers to avoid getting _shot_. And you know what I came up with? That's right. Nothing. Because you know, the great Maximum Ride can always get out of a situation on instinct.

"We won't kill you if you stay still," they crooned. Even at this distance, I could smell the alcohol on his breath, and it was _rank_. The man with the gun stepped closer, so we were only a few feet away from each other. "Put your hands up, so we can tie them."

Idiots, that was probably my best chance. I stared at them, as if confused for a second, and then swiped my hand on the side of the gun, bringing it out of my level. The guy behind me just stood there with a rope in his hands, seemingly paralyzed. That's the way I liked it. My fingers moved in precision, ripping his finger from the trigger with a _crack_. The man yelped in pain, giving me an opportunity to take the gun from him. I held it up to his face. "Get out of here."

_Oh, I've always wanted to do that! _I praised myself inwardly, because honestly? I'd never thought of doing something like that before. Well done, me.

The rain wasn't holding up much, and I could still hear the thunder and lightning. My clothes were beginning to stick onto me, meaning I couldn't fold my wings back in. I needed to stay in the alleyway. At least until this was over.

I don't know when I fell asleep. All I did know was that my wings were aching from leaning against an old brick building, and that there was someone nearby. And that it was possibly around three in the morning. So, I was going to get killed by Jeb if this guy didn't step up his game. His choice, not mine. I'd prefer if this kid did it.

"Holy [insert your choice of a swear word here]," a deep voice said. Oh, shit. My wings! I shook my head, rubbing my eyes. _Get out of here. _"Are you alright?"

Okay, so they hadn't seen my wings yet. Thank you, man upstairs. But who the hell was at a freaking alleyway at three in the morning? Are there people in Arizona who are _that _stupid? I rubbed my eyes again, and could see a dark figure standing less than five feet away from me.

Talk about ominous.

Okay, they asked if I was alright, so I can't attack them quite yet. Actually, I really hoped that I didn't have to attack. The rain had subsided into a drizzle, and was easily safe to fly through now. "Got the time?" I asked.

I _think _they blinked. I couldn't tell, you know, three in the morning. Ish. "Yeah, it's almost four." I knew that voice. Where did I hear it? Wait. I knew who that was.

"Okay, I'm going to go then," I said, scrambling to my feet. "Thanks, man." I tried tucking my wings closer to me so that he couldn't tell that I was a mutant freak, hoping that he couldn't see them. God, I really hoped he couldn't.

But as we passed each other, him just standing there, my suspicions were confirmed on his identity. I ran past him quickly and flew into the air.

_What the hell was Fang doing there? _

When I got home, the window by my balcony was opened. My wings folded closely behind me as I stepped through it, and I plopped on my bed; forgetting how wet I still was. The clock read: 4:37 AM.

I am going to be murdered by Jeb. Jeb is going to rip off my wings, take out my eyeballs, and then feed them to an angry bear. _Why am I always thinking of bears? _I thought. Oh, how classy.

Jeb came into my room then. "Hey, Max." He searched my face, and then looked at my wet clothing. Why wasn't he yelling at me? "How do you feel?"

Well, that easily scored a ten on the 'imbecilic scale' of one to ten.

"I feel fine, Jeb," I said brightly. "How about you?" I gave him a bubbly smile.

"Any nausea? Headaches?" _Yep, and it's standing here talking to me. _

"Nope." I popped the 'p'. Jeb sighed. Oh, I love being annoying. He shook his head and then left me in my room alone. Bliss.

The rest of the week went on easily. I avoided Fang—for fear he was in a gang or something—the entire time. It wasn't as if I actually needed to be friends with him, he'd probably get over it.

Today was the first day of school, and I could honestly say that I was dreading every single minute of getting ready. Dressing simply in dark skinny jeans, my red converse, and a t-shirt with L from Death Note on it, I was pretty much ready to go. My messenger bag swung over my shoulder as I stuffed my lunch inside, a piece of toast in my mouth. I was seriously running late.

"Bye, Jeb!" I mumbled, though it probably sounded like '_Mah mueb!'_

He waved back, and I shot out the door, running like a maniac to school. My hair was a mess by the time I got there, so I decided to just throw it into a pony tail. I practically inhaled my breakfast as I walked up the steps of Greenwood High. Freshman year? This is going to either suck, or rock. I prefer the latter.

"Hi, I'm new here." I said brightly as I waltzed into the office. A lady in her late forties pursed her lips at the sight of me. She had a huge mole by her nose, and wrinkles everywhere. The lady's hair was greasy and wet, probably still drying from a shower this morning. _Yeah, _I thought, _a shower in dirt. _She wore pointed glasses that were a hideous green, and a purple dress with way too much jewelry on.

"Maximum Ride?" she confirmed, grabbing an envelope from a cabinet to her left. I nodded my head. "Here's your timetable and planner—that has most of the school's information on it—and take this pass," she handed me a hot pink slip with eight slots on it. "Have each one of your teachers sign it, and then bring it back here." I nodded again.

As I exited the office, I got a good look at my timetable. It didn't look _too _bad, but it was still pretty annoying. Okay, I had to make my way into Advanced English in room 203, but how on this freaking earth was I supposed to get there?

I wandered around the school for a while, annoyed that it had been ten minutes since I had started. Each hallway looked the same as the last, and the numbers on the doors weren't even in order: 201, 209, 205. Honestly, who made this school? The doors were all wooden with a little window in the middle of it; possibly so I could peer into the classrooms—maybe get an idea of what the hell people were teaching? The tiled floors were a hideous yellow, and pillars that were an even _uglier_—if possible—shade of blue were standing right by them. Hell, I didn't even know where my locker was.

The map of the school I'd gotten clearly didn't help at _all_. I was about to turn in another direction to find the Advanced English classroom, but then I was knocked to the ground by something. Someone, actually.

"Sorry," the voice said. I looked up to see a guy with strawberry blonde hair and electric blue eyes. But his hand was extended a foot to my right? "Didn't see you there." How could he have not? Then I looked at his eyes again. _This guy's blind. _

"Nah, it's my fault for standing in the middle of the hallway."

"Are you new here?" He asked.

"And I'm hopelessly lost, if that counts. Any chance you know where the Advanced English classroom is?" I referred back to my sheet. "Room 203."

He chuckled. "Yeah, I'm in that classroom right now." He helped me up. "I'm Iggy." _Why was I meeting so many people with such strange names? _I thought.

"Cool, I'm Max." He nodded, and then bit his lip.

"Max, I'm blind, so I don't know where we are. Which room did we just pass?"

"You're blind? Sorry, no pity party from me. Just passed 209." Iggy smiled in relief and then nodded.

By the time we managed to arrive at the classroom, there were only a few minutes left of class. "James! It's been ten minutes since your departure from my classroom!" An annoyed voice bellowed throughout the classroom. I stepped out from behind Iggy. "Who is this?"

I got a good look at the teacher now. Angular face, she had green eyes the size of saucers—wide and innocent. She looked to be in her early thirties, and wore a pencil skirt that went down to her knees. Her arms were folded in annoyance.

"I'm the new student. Maximum Ride?" I confirmed, taking a step closer. The whole class had their eyes on me, some of the girls whispering to each other. Guys stared at me. Sexist pigs. "Please sign this sheet. I got lost, so Ig—James," I corrected myself, "Helped me find this room. Excuse him." She looked defeated, signed my slip, and told me to sit anywhere.

Naturally, I took a seat in the back. Might as well start out as the school's loner, eh? Wouldn't want anyone to find out I was a mutant bird kid.

Class dragged on for the remaining ten minutes. When the bell rang, I was out of there faster than physically possible. Well, I kind of _was_ a freak. But that's besides the point.

On the way to P.E., I watched as Iggy slammed into one of the pillars. His things flew from his hands, and he fell down. Everyone erupted in laughter, but I couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

"Hey Iggy, are you alright?" I asked, gathering all of his binders.

He groaned. "I feel like pudding. Pudding with nerve endings. Pudding in great pain." He rubbed his forehead tenderly.

"Suck it up," I retorted, but I still gave him a smile.

"Someone's cold hearted." He stuck his tongue out at me.

"Basically, I have two speeds: hostile or smart-aleck. Your choice." Iggy gave me a grin while I passed him his stuff. Then I remembered: P.E. was the best thing in the freaking world. "Bye Ig," I said, and ran down the halls and into the changing room.

Because, you know, I'm a girl. I have needs.


	4. Chapter 4

**Blah! I made this chapter a little longer, because I didn't update yesturday. I've missed three weeks of school because I have Lyme's Disease, so it's hard for me to update a lot, even though I'm writing when I'm not sleeping. OTL. **

**I'd like to give a shoutout to this one girl who's pretty awesome: whiteangel101. She gave me some really great advice for writing, and I've been using it ever since her suggsetion!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride, James Patterson does. **

* * *

Now, I don't know about you, but it's only natural for a girl to change in a record time of ten seconds before anyone else comes to the changing room to prevent any attention towards her _wings_. Or, for me, it is. And so, when I flew up the stairs back to the gym, I wasn't that surprised that I was the only one there. As in, there were clumps of people maneuvering their way down to the locker rooms.

Well, isn't this awkward?

The second bell rang, and a few kids were still making their way downstairs. I tapped my foot in impatience: why were humans so slow? Yeah, I was ninety-eight percent human and all, but they have nothing on me. What better to do than become familiar with the school? Note. The. Sarcasm.

I was leaning against a heater that was the color of melted chocolate, and it ran across a long hallway until it ended right by the nurse's office. There was an extremely long window that started and ended next to the heater—who put a heater in this school when it was freaking _Arizona_, I'll never know—it looked over the long concrete steps to the school's parking lot. The walls were an ugly white color, so dissimilar to the blue in the classrooms. The floor was tiled, but instead of the sickening canary yellow, the floor was black and white. You know, like bathrooms?

How fitting.

As students came up the stairs, everyone was wearing the same grey shirt that read 'Greenwood High' on it in navy blue; as well as the navy blue basketball shorts that said the same message as the shirt; but in white lettering at the corner. We were being filed into different classes—there were three different teachers stationed at different parts of the _enormous _gymnasium—mine being underneath an American flag at the back wall of the gym. My teacher—Mr. Santora—called everyone to attention by roll call. As he went down the list, I looked at all the faces of the kids who were in this class: those who looked athletic, those who didn't. That's all I looked for.

"Nick Richards," Mr. Santora called out. I looked for the owner of the name, just like all the other students.

"Here," he called back. I looked to the owner of the voice, and my eyes widened at the owner of the name. It was _Fang_, who I'd been avoiding all week. I had to put a hand over my mouth to stifle my laughs, they were uncontrollable. People around me stared as I shook in silent laughter. His name was Nick. Nick! That didn't fit him at all.

"Maximum Ride," our teacher called. He looked around, clearly not knowing the owner of the voice.

I removed my hand, and said surprisingly evenly, "Here."

Mr. Santora looked at me up and down, assessing my body type and what not. I looked pretty athletic, and he seemed to agree. "Played any sports at your old school?" he asked.

"Soccer, basketball, but mostly track," I said, and added, "Sir."

He nodded, finished taking attendance, and then turned his attention towards the entire class now. "We're going to be running today."

Everyone groaned. Well, everyone but me. This would be a piece of cake. The kids in my class walked sluggishly to the track. Mr. Santora announced that we'd be running a mile today. I could easily run fifteen without breaking a sweat; I'd done it before at the School. He organized it so that the girls would run first, and the boys would follow after they'd done their mile. Sexist, but good for me; I hated waiting.

I started in the first lane, waiting for him to blow his whistle and start. He had a timer in his left hand, and the whistle hung lazily in his mouth. Now it was all up to when he'd blow it. My eyes were trained ahead of me, I needed to run—no, I craved it, I needed it—right at this second, or I'd probably deteriorate. The whistle roared, and I took off.

It looked as if I was sprinting, but it seemed to me like I was jogging in slow motion. I didn't dare go above a jog, though, for fear that people would notice that something was up with my running. I turned again on the track, making my way down to where I started. _First lap, accomplished. I wonder if I can overlap all of them? _I smiled at the thought, and I didn't care that I was exceeding a sprint in a human's mind. This was nothing but a normal paced jog for me, now. The first girl I lapped had dark red hair and shiny green eyes. She also looked like a complete slut, her face hidden under an inch of makeup, her basketball shorts rolled up to her mid-thigh. It was literally disgusting.

I could hear her muttering things under her breath as I passed her, like, "Why isn't Brigid waiting for me?" and "My hair is going to be _so _tangled by the end of this!" Nobody else could hear her but me, as my raptor hearing caught every word. It was also quite annoying at times like these, as I could hear all of the girls' breathing. It was unbalanced and uneven, unlike mine; I wasn't even breaking a sweat.

Time for some fun.

I ran in front of all of the girls, and then turned around suddenly. I started running backwards, and cupped my hands over my mouth. "Come on ladies, pick up the pace!" A few of them laughed, but many girls game me looks of hated and annoyance. Oh, I was having so much fun. "Lift those legs, ladies!" I bellowed louder, laughing maniacally. Some of them had an irritated expression on their face.

A different girl, on the other hand, lifted her legs mockingly to the front of the group and next to me. She had mocha skin and chocolate eyes, and black hair that pulled back into a neat bun. The girl was gorgeous, tall and lean with amusement in her eyes. "I'm Nudge," she said, extending out a hand as we continued running. She shook it firmly. "I don't know how I got that name, but suddenly it was just Nudge. Maybe it's because anything can make me start talking, so you need to, like, nudge me or something for me to be quiet. Like that'll ever happen, though. I mean, I _love _talking. It's like an addiction, you know?" she looked at me. I was about to answer her, but she went off again. "You're insanely good at running, I didn't think you were human when you lapped all of us! You even beat me, and I'm on this school's track team. Like, wow. Say, what's your name?"

I blinked a few times. Did she just say that in a single breath? While we were running track, at that? "I'm Maximum Ride, but you can call me Max. I moved here about a week ago."

She squealed. "You're new! No wonder I haven't seen you around! You're like, _totally _gorgeous. You should hang by me and my friends during lunch time. We're really awesome people!"

"Oh, I promised I'd sit with my friend today," I interjected, afraid that she'd continue spewing out words that I couldn't comprehend.

"What's his name? I mean, we could all sit together!" She suggested it playfully, not in the slightest bit annoyed that I was 'taken'.

"His name's Iggy. Let's talk after this run. I'm bored, and I have a lap over you. See you after class?" I asked, looked at her as I sped up. She nodded, not saying anything. Thank God.

I revved forward, sprinting the remaining lap. I hadn't realized that I'd ran an entire one with Nudge, I was too caught up in what she was saying, trying to process all of the information into my mind. That girl could talk. And I mean, I haven't met anyone who could talk as much as she could.

When I finished, Mr. Santora looked at me. "Nice one, Ride," he said, patting me on the back. I grinned cheekily.

The guys were sitting on the bleachers, watching the girls finish their laps. When I came, though, they all patted me on the back, saying, "Sweet run, Ride," or, "That was pretty kick ass." I grinned at them.

We watched the boys run, and I was surprised to see Iggy among them—I mean, he was _blind_. He was actually doing really good, and was running in second. I couldn't see who was running first, but all the girls were gushing at him, whoever it was. My eyes widened when I saw Fang—yes, _Fang—_in first place. Not that it was a competition, but I was surprised that he ran so fast. It was almost as fast as me. This kid was pretty different.

"I don't get why all of the girls gush over Fang. I mean, come on. He's totally hot and all, but he's also like a concrete wall. He doesn't' talk to anyone, and wears all black. I swear, the only time I've seen him _not _in his colorless ensemble is during gym, and that's not that exciting. There are only a few of people who have heard him talk. Oh my God, in eighth grade, everyone thought he was like, _mute. _Even I did, and I'm like a superhero when it comes to making people talk and all. Hey, what kind of superhero do you think I would be? I bet I'd be like Wonder Woman, but she has to wear this really weird outfit, and I don't want that. Maybe I could be-"

"Nudge," I cut her off. "My ears," I pointed to them, "They're bleeding." Not entirely true, but it was awful to hear all of this rambling chatter when I had stupid raptor hearing. She was nice and all, but I couldn't stand being on the receiving end of all of this word spew.

Nudge huffed in annoyance, but was silent for the rest of the period. Thank God.

* * *

I ran down to the lockers before anyone else, and then changed in record time—fifteen seconds. Undressing was easier, but come on, I was wearing skinny jeans. I deserved an extra five seconds for those puppies.

I fixed the belt that Jeb had given me the night we met the Richards' against my wings, wincing slightly as they cramped. I'd need to fly again tonight; it was getting unbearable being unable to fly. My Death Note t-shirt flew over my head in about a second. I laced up my converse, and then flew up the stairs.

Pun intended.

I was surprised to see Fang at the end of the P.E. hall—I didn't know what else to call it—waiting for the bell to ring.

"Hey," he said. I shifted, not really wanting to talk to him. I didn't want to mix with him. Why had I seen him so late into the night? And I couldn't ask him, either, seeing as it would be a dead giveaway to _me._ "Why have you been avoiding me?" Fang's obsidian eyes searched mine, looking for an explanation

I shrugged. "I haven't been. I just didn't feel like talking to you. Is that a problem, emo boy? "

"No, it isn't. I've just been bored without anyone to talk to, lately."

I laughed at that. I laughed really hard. Fang didn't have anyone to talk to? "Are you kidding? The girls were _drooling _at your running. Everyone just says you don't talk. So, I'd like to believe I'm not any different." The bell rang. "See you. Because I bet you'll make another attempt to talk to me again."

I started walking away, but Fang grabbed my arm. "Remember how I told you that you weren't weak, like every other girl I knew?" I nodded, not getting where he was going with that. "People don't look past appearances, but it seemed as if you didn't even give a damn about what I looked like. You even _fought _me. You fought _this_." He moved his hands down his body. I rolled my eyes, but my mouth twitched into a smile.

"This girl named Nudge kept telling me all about how you never talked to anyone. She seemed immune to the Fang Disease, though. That was good." He rolled his eyes. "You met Nudge? She's a friend of mine, though we're complete opposites. Let's just go to lunch." He tugged on my arm.

"Can't, I've got to meet Iggy." His eyes widened a bit, but then went back to his usual impassive state. "I'll ask him if we can all sit together."

* * *

I put my gym clothes back into my locker, and then went over to Iggy's. I saw him putting something in his backpack. "Hey Iggy. Ready for lunch?" I asked, paper bag in hand. He grabbed a lunch box from his bag, rubbing it before confirming that was the right object to get from his locker. Iggy turned to my direction, a grin on his face.

"Yeah, let's go. We can sit outside. I need your help with something."

We went out to the courtyard, and Iggy maneuvered his way to a large tree. We climbed it a bit, and sat with our backs against the trunk, our feet dangling off the branches slightly. I unwrapped my lunch, taking a bite of one of the three sandwiches I'd made. Hey, a girl has to eat.

I turned to Iggy. "So, what did you need help with?" I asked, curiosity evident in my tone. Dear God, I hoped it wouldn't be dating advice. I lack experience in that department.

"Do you have any nitrogen? If not, I'd need some earrings. Do you have any? I don't know, because I can't see." Okay, did he just ask me if I had _nitrogen_? Like, the element? Didn't people use nitrogen for explosives? I was wearing earrings, actually. I'd never thought to take them off before, because they were simple ones that dangled less than an inch away from my ears. I wore two pairs, as I had a double piercing. But then again, why did he need them?

"Iggy, what are you going to do with nitrogen and possibly my earrings?" My tone was cautious, as if I didn't want to hear the answer. I probably didn't.

He held up the _weirdest _thing I had ever seen before. It looked like a school calculator, but the back was ripped apart. Colorful wires wrapped around it in all directions, and the solar panels on the front were connected by some cable I couldn't identify. The screen was torn off and put onto the bottom of the calculator, only to be replaced by a larger one the size of three of my fingers. On the back—connected to all of the wires—there seemed to be a motor of a hair dryer. The calculator's case was cut in half and folded around the motor. There were metal guards on the sides, though, to possibly to create friction. Or to make sure Iggy didn't kill himself when it spun. The contraption itself was only about the size of my forearm.

What the hell _was _that?

"I just need a pair of earrings. I ran out of metal, so I need some sort of hook to use. Nitrogen would be the better option, but it doesn't matter. One of them; and this baby will be done." He paused, as if thinking. "I'll give it to you if you give me some earrings." I blinked. Why would I want it? My curiosity got the better of me.

"How many do you need?"

"Three."

Sighing I pulled off three of my earrings, keeping the one on my right ear on. "Here," I pushed them into his hand, and he felt them over with his thumb and forefinger.

"Thanks Max!" Iggy grinned at me, and got to work. He ripped the charms off of the earrings, leaving the hooks in his hands. He dropped the charms on the ground, taking no interest in them. How he could do this when he was blind, I had no clue. Iggy felt around one of the green wires that ran from the hair dryer's motor to the new screen, and then wrapped the hook around it tightly. He did this with the other wires that ran to the large screen, and held his finished product up into the air, humming _'The circle of life' _under his breath. I had such childish friends. Or, uh, friend.

"Here you go," he handed it over to me. "Try it."

"I would, Ig, but," I paused. "What the hell is this?"

He laughed. "I guess I should have told you _before _I made you give me your earrings. It's a computer, but I took an old iPhone's data chip and connected it to the USB I engraved onto the side of the calculator." He sensed my confused expression, and laughed. "Meaning, it has internet wherever we go. Meet me outside after school today, I made some fireworks during Advanced English this morning. Kind of the reason I was gone so long."

"You're a diabolical little pyro, aren't you?" Iggy blushed modestly.

But still, Iggy could make a computer out of a school's calculator? That was so _cool_. I turned it on and pressed the number pad. It worked as a keyboard, but like a flip phone did. I typed in a website, amazed at how fast the internet was. "Iggy, this is freaking amazing."

"I took another piece from the iPhone. It plays music, too. I just put on a ton load of Fang's music, though."

"Fang? You know him?"

"Yeah, everyone does? We've been best friends since we were around three. I usually sit with him at lunch, but I felt compelled to sit with you. You're pretty awesome, Max."

I face palmed inwardly. "Fang asked me to sit with him and this girl named Nudge at lunch today, but I told them that I was sitting with you, so I said no."

Iggy's eyes brightened up. "Let's finish eating; the bell is going to ring in ten seconds."

Confused at how he knew that, I counted down to ten backwards while practically inhaling the rest of my food. _Three, two, one… _And the bell rang. It was kind of weird how he knew that. I jumped down from the branch I was sitting on, not in the slightest bit worried that I might fall and hurt myself. It didn't hurt at all.

I looked back at Iggy, my 'computer' in my hand. "Come on, we still have two more classes." He nodded his head and jumped from his branch, and I winced, expecting him to fall from the ten foot drop. Iggy only brushed off some pine needles that rained down on his shoulder.

Why did I keep meeting such strange people?

* * *

**Ah! Another chapter is done. I hope you guys liked it! Also, I could use some ideas for some activities the Flock could do, so give some suggestions if you want! :D **

**~SilcenceIsInfinite**


	5. Chapter 5

**This took me so long to do, and I don't even know why. D: Thanks for the reviews I've been getting. Even though it's not a lot to a lot of different people, I'm _really _happy that people are reading my story, even if this is the first one I've ever done. So, thanks! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride, James Patterson does! **

* * *

I wove in and out of the crowd of students, looking up and down at the school map—even though I had previously established that it was complete _crap_—for the art room. Apparently it was in room 241, but again: I had no clue where I was going.

This school needed a huge red sign that said '_Do not use our maps, we have zero sense of direction!_' in bright red letters. Fast. Now normally, I can sense where to go once I'd been to a place before, easily remembering the smell and direction, yada yada yada. The only problem with that fact?

I'd never been to the freaking art room before.

I was about to ask a student where the hell the art room was when I saw a familiar head of black hair amongst the crowd: Fang. Fang knew where the art class was in this, this, _labyrinth _of a school. He loved drawing. Without hesitation, I went up to him. But he wasn't alone.

Attached to his side was a girl with dark red hair. I realized now that it was the girl who I had lapped first when we were running, the slut. What was she doing with Fang?

"Fangy!" She pleaded. "Please? You don't _have _to go to art class right now. You can always hang out with me." She rubbed her cheek against his arm like an over affectionate cat, but I quickly demolished that thought – she looked like a chimpanzee getting ready for a date.

Fang had a grimace on his face, but refused to answer her. Okay, Mr. Tall Dark and Silent, better get a move on to art class; _I don't want to see this_!

She continued rubbing up against him while smiling flirtatiously. She had a tight top on that oozed out what little body fat she had out at the edge. The girl's skirt barely covered up her butt, and was insanely tight as well. Her heels were probably five inches, because she was almost Fang's height; although she looked very short. I didn't know if she was clinging onto Fang due to being a needy slut, or that she would topple to the ground if she let go due to the height of her heels. The girl had about an inch of make up on, excessive black eye make up that said '_I'm a whore!_' when she blinked. The eye shadow nearly went to her eyebrows, missing it by a few millimeters.

Yeah, I said millimeters. That close to her eyebrows. Revolting, isn't it?

When I looked up at Fang, I laughed. Really. Hard. Fang had a tight grimace on his face, obviously annoyed by the girl's behavior. He looked like he had wanted to get the hell out of there, but the girl was dragging him; begging with her green eyes. Filled to the brim with lust.

Well, until her head whirled to her left, where I was standing.

"What are you looking at? Can't you see that we're busy, bitch?" She snarled at me, possibly trying to look intimidating, but all she achieved was the look of a rabid bunny. Aw, now that isn't cute.

"Are you seriously calling me a bitch? I don't know your _name _and you're already insulting me? Judge-mental, aren't we?" I asked, feigning offence. Fang quirked his mouth up in a knowing smile, but it faded before I could really make sure it was there.

"You're just jealous that Fangy is all mine. It's not my fault I'm prettier than you," she huffed.

"I'm sorry, can you say that again?" I crossed my arms over my chest and stopped in the middle of the hallway. "Your little _Fangy _looks like he's going to vomit from just being_ next_ to you for a good two minutes. And prettier?" I scoffed, and then stepped right up to her. I lifted a lock of her bright red hair. "One, this obviously came from a bottle. Two, you look like a prostitute. At least I have the decency to cover my ass. Lastly, I didn't know if you were holding onto Fang because you're a clingy bitch, or if you couldn't stand wearing those heels!" My voice almost reached to a shout as I ended my last comment.

She glared daggers into my eyes, looking murderous. "Jealously is an ugly emotion."

"So is denial."

She screeched in annoyance, and brought her hand back to slap me. I didn't catch her hand, but let her take out her anger. Even though she could have gotten her ass whipped by me. "Don't you dare insult me. _Me__**, **_Lissa Thompson!"

Okay, that didn't hurt, but her nails dug against my cheek when she slapped me, forcing blood to pour out of my skin in four neat lines that ran from my ear to my bottom lip. It didn't hurt that much, just stung a bit. She looked at me as if she had won the battle, but I laughed. Really loud.

"Oh, was that supposed to hurt? You have nails, congratulations. I'd hit you, but that'd be animal abuse." The bell rang, and I looked to Fang. "You have art this period, right?" He nodded. "Let's just go."

Lissa looked at us in annoyance. "Who the hell are you, anyway?" she bellowed throughout the halls, looking at our backs as she stood in the hallway.

"Maximum Ride, beeyotch!" I pumped my hand in the air as I laughed all the way to art class with Fang, one hand pressed against the slashes.

Max: one, Lissa: zilch.

* * *

When Fang and I entered the classroom, there was sticky blood all dripping down my neck and soaking my Death Note shirt. Damn, I really liked that one.

A woman who looked to be in her late fifties looked up at the door from her space in the middle of the classroom, stopping in midsentence at the sight of the two of us. Her curly black hair was pulled into a messy bun, and she wore a tye-dyed shirt and black pants. She was short, probably only five feet tall, but she looked strong and diligent. She had lines on her forehead, probably from thinking and/or concentrating on her artwork all the time. There was this apparent 'artist' vibe radiating from the woman, which was pretty fitting; considering her profession.

"What happened?" she asked worriedly, running right up to us. She looked at me. "Honey, are you alright?" Her eyes showed that she would be about to faint at the sight.

"Oh, me? Yeah, it doesn't really hurt, but you know. Head wounds bleed a lot." I motioned to Fang, who had a little of my blood on him. "Oh, and I think he tried to wipe some off. Nice going there, Fangles." I nudged him in the ribs with my elbows. "I don't need to go to the nurse or anything. Got any paper towels?"

She hesitated for a second. "Sure," she decided finally. "You must be the new student, Maximum Ride. We've been expecting you. My name is Miss Walshe. Welcome to art class."

"Ah, thanks. I go by Max, though."

I noticed then that the entire class was staring at Fang and I. A few girls looked sickly at the sight of my blood, some boys looking at me with their mouths hanging open slightly. There were five wooden tables that had colorful stools sitting underneath them, four of them completely filled. The last one was occupied by a single girl with glasses. School reject, I guess. There were cabinets that had acrylic and watercolor paints in them, and piles of sketchbooks lied at a table in the back of the room. Counters had colored pencils and writing utensils laying atop of them. Students' artwork hung from the walls. Miss Walshe's desk was in one of the corners by two sinks.

Fang and I were still standing by the door as Miss Walshe wet a few paper towels by the sink. I _still_ felt the students' eyes on Fang and I.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," I said evenly to all of them, staring at a few kids. Suddenly, everyone was taking an interest to the wiggly lines on their drawings.

* * *

Miss Walshe had instructed Fang and I to sit at the table with the girl in classes; we were sketching for the rest of the period—apparently Miss Walshe forgot whatever we were _supposed _to be doing by my little entrance. My shirt was still sticky with my blood on it, making me look like a zombie as the red clashed with my white shirt. It was pretty funny.

It was halfway through the class that I noticed Fang was looking at me out of the corner of his eyes, just like at dinner around a week ago. Each time I caught him, though, he would just shake his head and smile at his paper _knowingly_.

"Having fun?" I asked suddenly. His eyes had been lingering on me for a little longer than I thought was necessary. Fang jumped a bit in his seat.

"Just sketching." He said. The girl with glasses on his right looked up at him with her mouth open a bit. _What_, I thought, _was that the first time she'd ever heard him speak_?

"I can tell you're lying, your lips are moving."

Fang shook his head, and then wiped off the eraser shavings from his finished drawing. Before he knew it, I snatched it out of his hands, and then my eyes widened.

It was a picture, alright. But it was a picture of _me_. With _wings_.

I was flying in the sky, a gleeful expression on my face. My wings were in the middle of a down stroke, and I was ascending higher into the air. My hair whipped around my face, my brown eyes glinting off the sun; making them look like honey. There were stray feathers in the clear sky. And I looked absolutely beautiful.

So I did the only thing a normal teenager would do. I started laughing nervously and loudly. "Why do I have wings?" I asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Max, give it back," Fang demanded, trying to snatch the sketchbook from my hands. He didn't answer my question, though. I swerved in and out, looking at every detail. The wings looked so much like my own.

Freaked out, I threw the sketchbook back at Fang, and tried to ignore him. He seemed to catch on, though, and said, "Sorry if you didn't like it or anything. I'm not the best artist."

"Actually, it was freaking amazing. Better than mine." I looked down at my drawing of a bald eagle.

Fang stared at it. "That looks like a photograph. Don't be so modest, hot shot."

Okay, that was true. I loved birds, I was two percent bird; how could I not? The eagle in my drawing was perched on a branch by an empty nest. It was a depressing picture in all honestly, actually. The expression on the eagle was sad as it stared at the nest: empty eggshells littered the floor, but there was nothing else in it. The tree it sat on was slightly bent. Kinda made people think that _I _was the emo one, not _Fang_.

"Shut it. I just happen to love birds, alright?" Just then, the bell rang. The students flung their sketchbooks at the back table as Miss Walshe shouted out reminders and tips for better drawing. Everyone just nodded as if they were _actually _listened, and then waved.

And now we go back to the hell known as: the labyrinth of school hallways.

* * *

At the end of school, I was overly exhausted. My wings were cramping up—and honey, that hurts like a bitch—and my backpack was noticeably two pounds heavier.

Just like Iggy had promised, he ran out of the school holding two red sticks that must have been fireworks, somehow finding me in the crowd of students that ran down the steps.

Again, I don't know how this kid did it.

"Hey, Igster. I see you've got the fireworks?" Dear God, I sounded like a customer for a drug dealer.

"Yeah. Ready for some insane madness?" I laughed and agreed as Iggy lit the fireworks right on one of the steps no one seemed to be near. We stepped back ten feet or so while the flame made it's way down to the firework with a hiss.

And then, all of a sudden, _wham_! The fireworks exploded and shot out into the air with a loud _crack_, exploding in colors. The words '_You suck, Mrs. Doyle_' hung in the air for a few seconds in a shimmering green. Mrs. Doyle was our Advanced English teacher, who I now noticed was standing at the bottom of the steps by the buses.

"Holy shit, Iggy." I said in amazement. I then explained what the fireworks looked like, and Mrs. Doyle's expression as she looked into the sky. He grinned like the devilish pyro he was.

"That's Mrs. Doyle, Max. We've gotta run." He pulled me to his side, and we began running to the back of the school. It was an empty field that led into a forest that really shouldn't have been there, considering it was freaking _Arizona_. We took cover in the forest.

"How'd you know she was coming?" I whispered, interested. Mrs. Doyle was, indeed, running around the field. She shouted our names out as she looked around.

"I felt her eyes on ours, even though she was at the buses. And I could hear her footsteps. Nobody was coming towards us but her."

That was odd, I would have picked it up with my raptor hearing, but Iggy had known before I'd even _considered _the fact that Mrs. Doyle might have followed us.

And then it hit me.

"Do you do this a lot?" I looked at Iggy as he crouched lower each time Mrs. Doyle got closer.

"Problem, dearest Maxie?" He asked in a posh English accent.

"No, not in the slightest." I used the same posh voice as Iggy had. "Come on, she's gone." I gave him a hand and he grabbed it. "See you later?"

He nodded. "Yeah. See you tomorrow."

* * *

Jeb hadn't been home when I'd arrived at our house, so I sat around the house eating junk food and doing random homework for three hours. After that, I'd made cereal for dinner and watched TV.

I know. Homework on the first day. Oh, nothing about cereal for dinner? That's normal.

I looked at the clock underneath the TV: it was almost ten. I could go flying for a bit, but I noticed that it was a cloudy night. There was no way in hell I would be flying in the rain. Again.

Doesn't that suck how that's necessary?

My mood suddenly shifted. I grabbed my guitar and sat on our porch, overlooking the hazy full moon. There were no stars tonight; the clouds had covered all of in a heavy sheet. My eyes were trained on the moon as I cleared my throat, strumming the guitar once. And before I knew it, my mind was on every irritating thought. Not being able to fly, being treated like a freak even when no one knew I was _actually _one, not eating dinner, Jeb not being freaking home, Lissa cuddling onto Fang like she _owned _him.

Lissa.

Now I knew what to sing about. I started playing, emotion leaking from my voice.

_Wide awake, my mistake, so predictable_

_You were fake, I was great, nothing personal_

_I'm walking, who's laughing now?_

_You talk for hours but you're wasting lines_

_A pretty face but the chase ain't worth the prize_

I smiled as I eased into the chorus, thinking of how much I wanted to annoy the crap out of Lissa the next time I saw her.

_I'm gonna break your little heart_

_Watch you take the fall_

_Laughing all the way to the hospital_

'_Cause there's nothing surgery can do_

_When I break your little heart in two – I'm gonna break your little heart in two._

I continued singing smoothly, smiling at the edge in my voice. I sung through the second verse, and finished with a grin on my face. But then I realized something.

Why the hell was I jealous of Lissa in the first place?

* * *

**OKAY I HAD TO DO THAT. I JUST REALLY WANTED TO, I DON'T KNOW. I really want to make sure that I'm not jumping into FAX. Trust me, there isn't going to be FAX for a while, I just needed to get out that THERE WILL BE NO MIGGY... just FAX. I just wanted to make sure everyone knew that Max didn't like Iggy... but yeah. **

**~SilenceIsInfinite**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hi! I didn't get to update yesturday, It was a Saturday, and even I have a social life (I actually just spent the entire day reading fanfiction and playing Zelda- I just got Skyward Sword!) Also, the song used at the end of the last chapter was Break Your Little Heart by All Time Low, I forgot to put it in an Author's Note or something. **

**Thank you for your reviews, I love reading them :3 **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride, James Patterson does! **

* * *

I thought all about solutions as to _why _ Lissa irritated me so much, but I only came up with one: _she's a slut, and you know it. You're just looking out for Fang._ I made myself remember that each time I thought of how much I wanted to murder Lissa with the axe.

Oh, no, not _an _axe, _the _axe. Yeah, I'm a little violent. It comes with the charm.

School was honestly something that I didn't mind, when I thought of it. Despite all the freaking cliques—I swear, they could have come out of _Mean Girls_—I thought that it was, for lack of better word, bearable. Because you know, the better phrase for school would be _'I haven't had to kill anyone yet'_

I have to put a 'yet' there. Isn't that sort of depressing?

The alarm clock that Jeb had gotten me yesterday—waking me up was 'futile', as he put it—was ringing annoyingly. And it wouldn't stop, either. Well, I guess I'd have to blame Jeb for mutant bird kid strength when the clock read 43: 76 PM after I'd punched it. Whoops. Sighing, I untangled myself from the clutches of my sheets and started dressing for school. I threw on a ripped pair of dark skinny jeans, the typical green shirt that said _'Relax, I'm hilarious' _on it in white lettering, and some old pair of dark green converse.

You know, wouldn't want to disappoint for the _second _day of school. Had to make sure all of my friends thought I was dressed socially acceptable (I laughed at myself despite the early hour)

I draped my messenger bag over my shoulder and descended down the stairs, hoping to God that Jeb had made some breakfast earlier before work. I dismissed the thought quickly: of course Jeb hadn't, his precious work was calling him. Wow, I was really irritable in the morning.

I started making a bowl of Frosted Mini Wheats—the cereal told me that it made children do better in school, pfft—and was doing pretty good. I can't cook for my life, but cereal was probably the only thing I could make without having an appliance spontaneously combust.

I added the milk to the cereal carefully, ensuring that the milk wouldn't spill over. It hadn't. I went to the other side of the kitchen, or well, frolicked, to grab a spoon, and the cereal was gone in seconds. I literally ate like the Dickens when I was going to be late. I glanced to the kitchen clock and practically choked on my own spit when I read the time. It was 7:35, classes started at 7:45. It took me fifteen minutes to walk to school.

Fantastic.

I sprinted faster than I had ever done on _any _test at the School to Greenwood High, hoping that I wouldn't be late for Advanced English—but then again, Mrs. Doyle was there. I shuddered. When I got to the bottom of the steps, students were still pouring to the front of the school. I sprinted past all of them, wondering faintly if they could even see me. That's how quick I was. When I was halfway up the steps, I heard a familiar voice calling my name. I looked up, still running, to see who it was.

"Run to the hills, Max! Don't stop here!" the voice shouted from the top of the stairs. My eyes flickered to find who the owner was, and then I laughed when I found out who it was: Iggy.

Then I thought. How fast was I running? Maybe everyone could hear my clobbering, but then again, I was as light as a feather. I looked to my side as I scaled the rest of the steps to the doors—it was all a blur. Nobody could really see me, or hear me for that matter. Then how could Iggy, who couldn't even see?

I dismissed the thought as I reached the top. He gave me a high five as we laughed. "You're not even out of breath," he noticed. I gave a laugh and agreed.

"Hey, what time is it? I just ran from my house. It was seven thirty-five when I left, and it takes me fifteen minutes to get to school." I was curious to see how fast I had gotten here.

Iggy pondered my question for a little bit, tilting his head to the slightly as he thought. I forgot that he couldn't see anything and was about to tell him not to worry about it when he interrupted me. "It's seven forty. You ran from your house in five minutes?"

"Is there a problem?" I gave him a pointless annoyed look as we continued walking to our lockers.

"That's pretty awesome."

"Aw, that's my little pyro!" I ruffled his head while he grinned.

* * *

The morning classes had been fine. Mrs. Doyle hadn't come at us like an angry gorilla—although she looked like one—and I hadn't seen any potential enemies. In other words, Lissa.

Iggy and I were walking to lunch, paper bags in tow, when he stopped suddenly. "Max, let's sit with my friends today. I can introduce you to them."

"Okay," I said slowly. I wondered where Iggy fit in with the high school equation. Iggy was too skinny to be a jock, even though he _was _really athletic. The class clowns? No, Iggy wasn't that stupid, no matter how many bad jokes he said. I couldn't really come up with a clique for him. Maybe he was a variable?

"Max, these are my friends. This is Maximum Ride." He gestured to a simple table that only held five other people in it. I was surprised to see that I knew three of them—er, well the third one was a _kind of knew. _The first person I saw though, was the girl who had served me coffee that night at Tess's. I racked my brain for an answer to her name, faintly remembering that it started with an E. I opened my mouth to ask for her name again, but she was the first to speak.

"Black coffee!" she exclaimed, standing up. Her salad almost toppled as her hands slapped against the wooden table. Everyone in the vicinity looked at her as if she was on drugs, and then she shrunk back in her seat with pink cheeks. "I served her coffee about a week ago at Tess's."

I nodded. "Ella, right?" She grinned when she realized I'd remembered her name. I quickly reciprocated, and then looked at the rest of the table.

I saw Nudge next. She was sitting on the end of the table next to Ella, and was looking at me with a knowing smile in between bites of her pizza, grinning at me occasionally. Fang was sitting next to Ella, an empty seat next to him. He looked at me with an amused look in his eyes, but otherwise remained impassive. I didn't recognize the two people sitting on the other side of the table.

There was a girl with dark blue eyes and blonde hair looking up at me with bored eyes. Her hair was pulled back into a pony tail that hung to the side of her shoulder. She had freckles on her face and was really tall, even though she was sitting. The girl had a black tank top on that was polka dotted with white, and was wearing a skirt with sandals. Quite the girly girl. I noticed that she was eating a lot _less _than Fang and Nudge—who had at least three servings on their plates.

"This is JJ," Iggy said, taking a seat next to another one of his friends, this time a boy with brown hair.

"I can introduce myself," JJ snapped, rolling her eyes at Iggy. "The name's JJ. That stands for Jennifer Joy. I don't know what my parents were thinking, but I can't complain with friends called Fang, Nudge, Iggy, and now a _Maximum_. I swear; Sam over here is probably the only one here with normal parents." She pointed to the kid sitting next to her.

I nodded. "I go by Max. Call me anything but, and I think we'd have a problem." JJ narrowed her eyes at me while Fang looked at us. I smiled sickly sweet; _maybe _I'd be getting another enemy today.

But I'm a good girl, so I won't get the axe yet.

Iggy felt the tension between our little stare down as he opened his lunch. He took out a plastic knife, and then stood up. I gave him a pointless look that clearly said, '_Can't you see that I'm busy here?_' Iggy shrugged, as if knowing that we were all looking at him. He cut through the air between JJ and I with his knife.

"Jeez, it's like the tension here is tangible. Just get over each other and _deal_." Iggy sat back down and gave us pointed looks, although JJ's landed a few feet to her right.

"Wow, Iggy, you said something logical for once!" I said, clapping slowly. Fang chuckled. And wham, the attention was on Fang.

"Did he just _chuckle_?" Nudge said, gasping. "He's _never _done that." Fang shrugged and pointed to the boy sitting next to Iggy, as if expecting him to say something.

"I'm Sam," the boy said. I got a quick look at him. His brown hair stuck out at odd angles, as if it hadn't been brushed. He had green eyes that looked like the sea, and was, like JJ, eating less food than Fang and Nudge. Sam was wearing a blue shirt that said _'I didn't do it!' _on it. His sense of humor kind of reminded me of Iggy, who was chomping away on a tuna sandwich.

"Max. God, this repeating thing is really getting on my nerves." I sat next to Fang and dumped out the contents of my lunch bag: three peanut butter sandwiches.

Delicious.

I was halfway through the second one when I noticed that everyone was staring at me. "What, haven't you seen someone eat before?" I asked, giving looks to everyone.

"No, it's nothing, Max," Sam said, his eyes wide as I finished the second sandwich in two bites, "We just didn't know that you had an appetite as big as Fang, Nudge, and Iggy."

It was true, I'd noticed that. Fang had eaten four servings of the school's special of the day, some spaghetti. Nudge was on her fourth slice of pizza, and Iggy was plowing through his tuna sandwiches. I shrugged. "I don't see a problem."

"No, we're just surprised that you eat just as much as Fang over here; he finished in five minutes. With four servings! I'm not even done yet, and I eat almost as much as him! Maybe Fang is like a superhero or something. Hey, Max, did you decide what kind of superhero I'd be? I mean, Wonder Woman is still my favorite. But the outfit is horrible; I totally don't want to wear something like that. Maybe I don't have to be a superhero. Oh! I could be like Lois Lane, you know, _saved _by a superhero! Oh, but who would be my Super Man? I think that Mark Davies is really cute, you know. And he's a senior! But I'm a freshman, so I don't really think he'd go out with me. But Mark is really hot and mmpphhh-" Nudge was silenced as Fang put his hand over her mouth.

We all sighed in relief at the sweet silence. Well, Nudge was still mumbling nothings while trying to peel off Fang's fingers, but still.

Bliss.

"I have a big appetite," I said, shrugging. _No, you're a mutant bird kid. _I dismissed the idiotic thought.

"Max, why don't you hang out with us on Friday? We can all go swimming or something at my house." Sam said, breaking the silence. My eyes widened.

"Um, I don't swim, Sam."

"Why not?"

"I don't know how." I lied.

"I can teach you, though-" He was cut off by a death glare from fang. Damn, his was pretty good.

"Sam, we don't swim either, remember?" Fang said slowly, as if Sam was an idiot. Sam looked defeated, and then sighed.

"Right, I forgot. You guys can't swim either." Sam shrunk back in his seat, glancing around.

They can't swim either? _All _of them? Even Nudge, who would adore swimming just for the tanning? That was kind of suspicious, and they even used my same lie. Weird.

"We can still go somewhere," JJ said, looking at all of us. "How about the park on Friday?"

We all chimed in agreement. Well, Nudge just nodded her head profusely. I smiled at them all.

Just then, the bell rang for sixth period to start. We all started to go our separate ways. I ran off before anyone could follow me, needing a head start to get to the classrooms.

Wouldn't want to get lost in the labyrinth.

* * *

I was weaving in and out through the crowds of students as I was making my way to art class. It was last period, and I was faintly remembering where the classroom was. Well, until I heard a familiar voice scream my name.

Lissa.

"If it isn't the little slut who wants to steal my Fangy," Lissa sneered, her hands on her hips. Her red hair was straightened and hung limply behind her back. She wore a lot cut shirt that was green with sequins. It was insanely tight, and it looked like she was about to burst from underneath it in a million pieces.

I wouldn't mind that, actually.

She was wearing a tight black skirt and five inch stripper heels, tottering her way closer to me. Her face was underneath a good inch or _two _of makeup, the same '_I'm a whore!'_ eye shadow that was more prominent. Her nose was hidden behind a large bandage that ran across the bridge, and I laughed.

Okay, I didn't laugh. I basically burst into a fit of laughs, unable to say anything.

"What the hell are you laughing at, bitch?" she asked. Her hands were at her hips again, her face stuck by mine.

Lissa got a nose job. At the mere thought I burst into a fit of laughter again, hugging my sides. "Your nose," I said obviously, pointing at it. Then I started laughing again.

"Don't you dare laugh at Lissa Thompson!" she screeched. I looked at her as she pulled a hand back to slap me with her dragon claws. I moved out of the way at the last second, grabbing her hand.

"Are you so stupid that you have to speak in third person?" I spat.

"I am not stupid!" She defended, narrowing her eyes. She tried jerking her hand away from my grasp, but I just clutched it tighter.

"I hate to break it to you, but your IQ and shoe size happen to be the same number." Lissa shrieked in annoyance and brought her _other _hand to my face. I felt her nails dig into my cheek as she looked at me in triumph.

Oh, I just wanted to wipe that look off of her face. Wait a second, I could!

I punched her right in the nose, laughing as it swelled to its original size. Blood gushed out of it, and she yelled in pain. "You bitch!" She screamed.

"I prefer the term badass, but it's all about perspective. I'm too busy to waste my time on pathetic excuses of humans like you." I spat at her, walking away. I was walking in the direction of the hallway to art class again when I heard her mumble something.

"What was that?" I asked, pressing a hand to my ear.

Lissa growled at me, and then said it louder. "You're such a bitch. I bet your mother hates you or something. She's probably a whore."

That was over the line. I gritted my teeth, but kept my composure. I was already running late for class. "You might have met her through your job or something?" I asked. When Lissa stared at me in shock, I gave her my best death glare and walked away.

* * *

"Max, when will you stop coming to my classroom with a head wound?" Miss Walshe sighed as she went to the sink to grab a few paper towels, not even bothering to ask me what had happened. I sighed in relief at that, glad that I didn't have to make another excuse.

"Eh, it comes with the personality," I said. The class erupted in laughter at my comment. Miss Walshe shook her head and pushed the paper towels into my hands.

"We're sketching freely again!" She announced, walking back to her desk. The class cheered, a few giving me thanks as they turned to a clean page in their sketchbooks. I grinned at them, and then sat next to Fang with the wet paper towels pressed against my cheek.

"I take it you met Lissa again?" he guessed. Fang grabbed the paper towels from my cheek and examined the slashes.

"Lissa? Oh, the gorilla has a name?" I muttered in a shocked tone. Fang laughed at my little joke, smiling. Easily I returned the grin.

The rest of the class, however, was silent as they stared at Fang and I. "What," he glared at everyone, "Never seen a guy laugh before? You must have depressing lives."

"Fang, nobody expects _you _to laugh. Keep in mind that you're an emotionless rock." I whispered. The girl in glasses looked at the two of us, flicking her blue eyes between the two of us.

"Hush, Max. That hurts my ego." He gave an expression of hurt, and then we both laughed.

I was becoming better friends with Fang, and I liked it.

* * *

**I love writing fight scenes with Lissa, it's like I can let out all of my smart ass-edness out on my own fake character. I'm beginning to ease into Fang and Max's friendship, but I want there to be some kind of drama. I haven't thought of anything yet, so I guess that's it. :P**

**~SilenceIsInfinite**


	7. Chapter 7

**BLAAAH! I kind of freaked out, apparently this story has gotten a thousand hits! WHAAT? I didn't think that was humanly possible for me, sorry for freaking out QAQ. Okay, yeah! This is chapter 7!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride... James Patterson does.**

**UNLEASH THE FAXNESS!**

* * *

School went on normally the rest of the week. I hung out with Iggy and his friends—now my friends—for the entire time. Lissa was still being a gorilla, Fang and I were getting closer, and I _still _came to Mrs. Walshe's classroom every day with a head wound—courtesy of Lissa. I was walking home with Fang when he reminded me that we were going to the park with the rest of the gang in about ten minutes. We ran straight home, threw our bags onto some unfortunate piece of furniture, and then went in the direction of the park.

"Shit, I can't believe I forgot," I swore, jumping over a rock. When he raised his eyebrows at me, I returned the look. "What? You would forget plans if Mrs. Doyle was secretly making scenarios of your death every time you stepped a foot into her classroom."

"Can't say that's happened to me," he replied, shrugging. I stuck my tongue out at him and jumped over another rock.

We were walking over the boulder fields on the way home. I'd found one of them behind a clearing in the forest that I'd flown over sometimes before. I was jumping _over _the rocks while Fang was _hopping _from rock to rock. And yes, I'd already made the joke of him being the '_rabbit of death_' already.

Sadly, no smiles for me from that joke; I have such emotionless bricks—I came up with that when I combined the whole 'talking to a brick wall' and the fact that he was like an emotionless rock; isn't that genius?—for friends.

When we reached the park, everyone else was there. Iggy noticed us first, waving his hands above his head. "Hey, slowpokes! I was just about to threaten to bomb your houses if you didn't come. What took so long?"

Fang nudged me, as if asking me to explain. "Fang forgot we had to come here."

Fang gave me an _'Are you serious?_' look, but then shrugged. There was a quarrel for a few minutes before we all settled down.

"So," JJ said, "What game do you guys want to play?"

I looked around the park. It was a large clearing that had trees lined around it, a lake with a waterfall on the eastern side by the entrance. There were benches positioned randomly by paths for any un-athletic idiot who couldn't manage a trail. A playground filled with screaming kids was faced by the flower beds. On the western side, the foliage was thick and green and held flowers. There were colors upon colors of different flowers that made me think that a unicorn had thrown up a rainbow or something. All in all, it was a really pretty place, where only a few people were walking dogs or running. I'd have to fly here sometime, now that the weather was letting up.

"How about we play charades?" Sam said, staring at Nudge the entire time. He knew she couldn't go a full thirty seconds without bursting.

"What? No way! If we played that, you'd be sweeping bits of Nudge off of the grass for a good two days. Why don't we play an easier game! Oh," she announced in wonder, a devious grin on her face, "We're playing a game that I decided on now. Thank Sam, because we're playing Truth or Dare!"

We all groaned and complained, but Nudge looked murderous. "Sit. Down," she ordered. When we were all situated in a tight circle by the lake, Nudge sat between Ella and JJ. She motioned to the middle of the circle, gesturing for someone to go first.

"Sam," JJ announced with a devilish smile on her face. He visibly gulped. "Truth or dare?"

Honestly, with the way she sounded, JJ could have just asked Sam to make a deal with the devil.

"Dare."

Was it me, or did JJ's eyes just glint in mischief when he said that? "Great. I dare you to go over there-" JJ pointed to an old couple sitting on a bench a good twenty feet from us "-and tell them you're their long lost grandson."

Sam smirked. "Easy," he began.

"But," JJ continued, "You have to do it in a Mickey Mouse voice."

His eyes widened. Sam said something unintelligible while scrambling up from his position next to Fang, and proceeded to walk to the elderly pair. He had a sparkle in his eye while he began pouring words out of his mouth.

Honestly, I would believe him if he said he was my grandson. So what if I'm fifteen?

It was all going well until the elderly woman decided to get an annoyed look on her face. She swung her cane at Sam and it hit his side. He gasped, apologized, and then ran back over to us with a pained expression. We all started laughing our heads off.

"What did they say when you told them?" Iggy asked, confused. He didn't see anything that went on.

"She didn't have any children."

We burst into another round of laughter, hugging our sides from all of the giggles. Fang even broke into a grin, but didn't laugh.

"Okay, my turn then," Sam said, recovering from his laugh attack as well. He turned to Iggy. "Truth or dare, Igster?"

Iggy thought for a minute until responding. "With that performance? Truth."

"If you could date anyone in this circle, who would it be?"

"That's easy! Definitely Ella," Iggy nudged Ella, who was sitting on his left. She automatically turned beet red; everyone but Iggy knew that she had a thing for him.

"Ella, truth or dare?" Iggy asked.

"Truth." Of course Ella would say that, she was such a scaredy cat.

Iggy let a full-fledged grin leak at her response. "Who do you like?"

Ella went insanely red at his question. "I-I…" Iggy looked at her expectantly. "You sick bastard! You knew I liked you!" She punched his shoulder and hid her head in her hands in embarrassment. Iggy just laughed lightly and put an arm around her. She visibly relaxed at his touch.

"Aw, that's so cute! I feel like I'm going to vomit," JJ said, making a gagging noise. I joined in, and we both laughed.

Ella, on the other hand, looked even more red in the face—if possible. "Fine! JJ, truth or dare?"

"Duh, dare." Way to go, JJ.

"I dare you to hold hands with Sam for the rest of the game. If love makes you vomit, that is." Ella gave JJ a death glare when she grinned.

"Consider it done!" She locked hands with a pink faced Sam.

"Fang, truth or dare?" JJ asked for the second time. When he picked dare, she had that same weird glint in her eyes. JJ gave the best dares. "I'll go easy on you. I dare you to kiss Max. Ten seconds, we'll be counting."

"What?" we protested at the same time. Fang looked at me with wide eyes, and I reciprocated the gesture easily. I mean, come on. We had _just _started to get along! Well, Fang was now able to take my comments as a joke, but still.

"Chop chop, youngins!" JJ ordered, clapping her hands twice. She _really _looked like the devil right now. And Fang had just sold his soul.

Shit.

Fang shrugged and gave me an apologetic look. We leant in until I could feel his breath against my skin, but then he stopped abruptly. He looked into my eyes, and I could see the black onyx threatening to devour his pupils. There were gold flecks in his eyes like shining stars in eyes, and Fang had a light pink on his cheeks.

Wait, _what_? Fang, the almighty _Fangles_, was blushing? I blinked a few times, but he held his gaze. Fang smelt like the freshness of rain, but also like dark chocolate. I let myself drown in his scent, not realizing what he had said to me the moment before he closed the distance between us.

"_Sorry_." My eyes widened a fraction, and then his lips crashed onto mine. Sparks immediately exploded in my stomach at his touch, and I didn't realize I was kissing him back. Faintly, I could hear cheers as JJ count down from ten.

"Seven!"

Fang jerked me closer to him suddenly, wanting to get closer and closer to me. I lifted my hands and let them explore his shaggy, black hair. Fang angled his jaw slightly so we could get _closer _to each other. I feared Fang could hear my heart pounding through my ears with each jolt of electricity passing through my system. JJ continued counting down.

"Three!"

Fang deepened the kiss suddenly, making me gasp. He smiled against my lips and then continued to kiss me, his arms locked securely around my waist. I tugged on a bit of his hair, and I _swore _I could hear Nudge say the word _tease _to me. I didn't know, really. All I knew was that Fang and I were so close to each other, and it felt so _good_.

"One!"

I moved my hands from his hair and onto his back. Fang put one hand against my face, tipping it upward and pushing all of his emotions into me: excitement, happiness, but also apology. Confused for a second, I almost pulled back, but my idiotic teenage hormones forced me to continue to kiss him while I moved my hands around his back. And then I felt a bump by his shoulder blades, one that I knew all too well.

It was the bump that my wings made when I concealed them behind a shirt. Gasping, I pulled away from Fang with intense curiosity in my eyes; he was looking a little hurt.

Well too bad, buddy.

My eyes widened, and so did his. He knew what I had felt, and that made my suspicions grow deeper. "Max…" he started.

"What the hell is that?" I yelped. My hair was no doubt looking like it was a bird's nest, but so did Fang's. I looked at him in shock, and went to put my hand by his back again. His eyes widened even more, and I could see only one emotion in his eyes.

_Worry_.

Fang took my reaching hand and pushed it closer to mine. I looked back at our friends for some sort of explanation, but all they did was stare blankly at us. Like they had expected us to frolic into the flower beds by the playground and become a couple.

Well, that's not how I roll.

"Max..." Fang begun again, looking at me with pleading eyes. He sighed and muttered a curse under his breath—which was completely pointless seeing as my raptor hearing could catch it—until he stood up.

"Don't think you're going to run away. You are going to tell me what the _fuck _that is!" I screeched, gaining attention from a few dog walkers. And then Fang looked at me with that same, single emotion in his eyes.

_Worry_.

Silently, Fang grabbed my hand and dragged me across the park. We ran through the playground, wrapping ourselves around the lake and back to the boulder field. We finally stopped, none of us out of breath.

I was beginning to get freaked out by that.

* * *

"I'll explain," Fang said, holding up the one hand that wasn't gripped tightly in the universal '_Calm down_' gesture. When he realized that his other hand was occupied, he quickly retrieved it.

Before I could say anything, Fang stepped away from me and took a deep breath. He looked at me, searching for an easy way to tell me whether or not my worst suspicions were true.

"Well, Max. I don't know if this will ruin our friendship or not. I just hope you don't faint and then move three states over like my old friend Penelope found out." Fang scoffed and shook his head. With another deep breath, Fang looked at me one more time before spreading out his wings.

Holy. Shit.

I didn't do anything in those next ten seconds. Fang had wings that surpassed my wingspan of fourteen feet, easily sixteen feet long. The feathers were darker than midnight itself, almost purple as they caught the sunlight like a dream catcher. Fang had a lingering expression of worry etched onto his face, but his eyes betrayed him by showing what he was truly thinking at the time: fear. Fang must have feared that I wouldn't accept him for who he was, but it was exactly the opposite.

I really hoped that finding out I wasn't the only mutant bird freak was going to make me turn into Robert Frost.

I could faintly hear Fang calling out my name with impatience, wondering what on this God damned earth I was going to say. And that's the thing.

I have _no _freaking idea I was going to tell him. I was utterly speechless.

"Max!" Fang screamed. I shook my head a few times before looking at him. His knuckles were white as he clenched his fists in impatience.

"I feel like I'm looking at Chicken Little go goth," I answered. He looked confused, and I face palmed inwardly.

"You're not scared?" Fang asked cautiously.

"How could I be scared of something like me?" I blurted. I immediately put my hands over my mouth, cursing at myself for saying that out loud. If Fang changed facial expressions one more time, I swear I would start to kill someone.

"Max?"

"Yes, Fangles?"

"What do you mean?"

"Hey, you wouldn't happen to know of a place called the School, would you? Located in California? I hear they grafted two percent of avian DNA into a bunch of kids…" I trailed off, realizing I was spilling secret after secret. All Fang did was look at me and scowl.

"Well, there's no time to beat around the bush with this awkward silence!" I announced. Wincing, I unfurled my wings, watching Fang's expression contort into wonder at the sight of my wings. "Ah, that's much better," I sighed in relief.

Okay, maybe that wasn't the best thing to say at a time like this. But hey, it comes with the charm.

* * *

**I AM SO SORRY, THIS CHAPTER IS SO BORING AND IT SUCKS D: PLEASE FORGIVE ME! I was having awful writer's block while writing this. I couldn't stop singing random songs that ShounenT covered... Whatever. I thought I'd put in some faxness, but I don't know if there's going to be any more for a while. **

**~SilenceIsInfinite**


	8. Chapter 8

**I'M SO SORRY THAT I TOOK FOREVER TO UPDATE! D: I was feeling really sick this week, sorry sorry sorry A THOUSAND TIMES SORRY! D: I hope you like this, I put some effort in here!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride, that's James Patterson's job.**

* * *

Have you ever had an awkward silence, and all you ever wanted to do was get away from it to avoid _more _awkwardness? Ever happen to you? No? Well, that's what happened right now. Dear God, it's so awkward.

So, who's going to break the silence? Oh? You know? That's right. Not me!

Fang's eyes widened as he took a good look at my wings. Normally, his expression would be impassive and somewhat bored, but he seemed to have forgotten _that _principle when he saw the wings.

How ominous! I mean seriously, how creepy does that sound? _The wings_. Sounds like the axe, doesn't it?

Anyway, Fang was speechless as his eyes skimmed from the wings to my face, to the wings again. It was like he was plotting murder, and I'm _really _uncomfortable with that. His gaze, on the other hand, wasn't murderous—thank God for that—but rather, it was more relieved? As if this revelation had made Fang feel more appreciative and gentle?

Hey, I'm awful at reading emotions. Blame Mr. Tall Dark and Silent for making it so hard.

The awkward silence was really bugging me, though, so I spoke first. "So yeah, I have wings, you do too. Isn't that amazing, Fangles?"

Fang blinked a few times, as if pulling out a trance. Pfft. He stepped closer to me, holding out a hand. "Can I?" he asked, as if he was invading my personal privacy—oh wait, he kind of was.

"By all means, if I can do the same."

I shut my eyes as Fang's hand inched closer to the wings, and I flinched as he touched them. When I opened my eyes, he was grinning.

"You're smiling," I observed.

"You are, too."

I hadn't realized it, but I guess I really was smiling. When Fang smiled, it was infectious—ew, horrible thought there—and I couldn't help from reciprocating. It was weird, now that I noticed it, that Fang had been the first person to know this secret, and that he had the same one. Honestly, it was relieving, but I couldn't help but think, _would I have told him if he hadn't also had wings_? The worst part was that I didn't have an answer for that. It was as if I didn't want to know. And maybe I don't.

I was snapped out of the second inner monologue I'd had since I'd moved to Arizona when Fang asked me if I wanted to touch _his _wings. Calmly, I nodded—or that's what I thought, and I really looked like a bobble-head. Awkward.

When my hand reached his feathers, he flinched. I don't know why, but that made me smile. Maybe it was the fact that we'd had the same thoughts? Eh, probably. Now that I was up close, I could clearly see the exact color of his wings. When the sun shone through them, they were almost translucent, the color so black as if almost purple. Other feathers that were closer to Fang were almost a blue-black, sticking out wildly from being tucked in all day. The texture was like silk, I noticed, as I rubbed my fingers in between a single feather. Fang's wings were utterly beautiful, leaving me speechless.

Dear God, I really am turning into Robert Frost. Maximum Ride doesn't _elaborate_ on beauty!

"Max," he said, breaking the silence, "What should we do about that dare?"

Way to go, Fang. Way to ruin that beautiful moment. "That depends," I responded carefully, thinking about it. It all depended on whether Fang felt anything or not. "Did you feel anything?"

He thought for a minute, absorbing my words. "What, like a spark?" he asked. I nodded. "Definitely. Did you?"

Oh, shit. That's not good. "So much that it hurt," I replied.

"So what does this mean?" he asked.

"That we should continue as friends. Anymore, and I'd feel weird. I've known you for about two weeks, Fangles."

He nodded in agreement. "That's the Maximum Ride I know." He ruffled my hair.

"Do that again, and you'll lose a finger. Or the ability to reproduce. Your choice." Fang visibly gulped, and then we started laughing again. It was good that the dare hadn't fazed our friendship, honestly. I'd have to maim JJ later, though.

* * *

When Fang and I got back to the park, we didn't see any of our friends. Honestly, no one was there. We looked at the other side of the lake, a few benches—hell, even the inside of the tunnel at the playground was empty—but no one was there.

Fang jogged up to me from his previous location, the flower beds. "Nudge was kind enough to leave a note," he said, rolling his eyes. He held it out to me.

_You guys took way too long! Don't make out for too long, okay? (; Love, Nudge_

"Let's just go home," I suggested. "Walk or fly, your choice. It's late, anyway."

"Flying. That a question?"

"Can you speak in full sentences?" I asked. Fang rolled his eyes, and we unfurled our wings, flying in the night.

"This never gets old," I said, flying in the air. I did a series of tricks for Fang: flying in tight circles, horizontal rotations, and even a deadly free-fall. Fang had a few of his own, but even he admitted that mine were better.

Damn straight.

I was flying above some more trees, about to tell Fang something, when I didn't see him. "Fang?" I called out, but no one answered. I slowed down, calling out his name. "Fang, where are you?"

And then I saw him, a good fifty yards in front of me. He had materialized out of thin air. "Hey, Max! Hurry it up, will you?" he called, one hand cupping his mouth like a megaphone.

Annoyed, I started picking up speed. When I was forty yards from Fang, he started yelling at me again. "Slowpoke!" he kept saying. That little bastard was going to get it.

Faster than I had ever flown before, I zoomed at about two hundred miles an hour, zipping past Fang in a whirl.

When I was fifty yards from Fang, I called out, "Hurry it up, will you?"

Fang scowled, and then disappeared into thin air. I blinked a few times, but Fang was nowhere to be seen. And then, he materialized. As soon as I saw him, he disappeared again, like a fading hologram. And before I could blink again, something pushed me, hard.

"Watch where you're flying, Max," Fang said, his voice erupting in my ears. He was really close to me, I knew it.

"No fair, you can turn invisible!" I exclaimed, although it sounded more like a question than a statement. Fang put on the same facial expression I probably had at the moment.

"And you can fly at lightning speed!" He said in the same tone.

"That's not the point!"

"It isn't?" Fang questioned. And then the bastard just _had _to pass me. "See you later, Maxie!" he called.

Oh _fuck _no. He did _not _just call me Maxie. That's like, forbidden. Yes, it's forbidden (I face palmed inwardly as I realized that I had to clarify my own _thoughts_).

I zoomed at Fang, reaching him in not even a second. Childishly, I stuck out my tongue. "You're a meanie, you don't call girls Maxie!"

"Yes I can, Maxie!"

"Nu-uh!"

"Uh-huh!"

"Nu-uh!"

"Uh-huh!"

"Um, how about _no_?" I asked.

"Um, how about _yes_?"

And then, all of a sudden, we burst out laughing. I hadn't had this much fun flying in forever, I realized. It was really cool to have another mutant bird kid at my side.

We landed in behind Fang's house, in his garden. "Come on in." He motioned for me to come with him as he opened the back door.

"Fang, it's really late," I reminded him. Even so, I still walked in after him. Stupid mind.

When we got inside, I realized that all of the lights had been on. Fang's family was still up, even though it was probably past ten. We'd been at the park for a while.

"Fang?" a little voice called. I recognized it as Angel's with a smile. "Fang!" Angel called again, running down the hallway with a teddy bear in her arms. "I waited for you to come home!"

Fang picked her up, and Angel giggled. "You didn't have to do that," he said, poking her nose with a finger. Fang's eyes twinkled as he held Angel, it was like he was a completely different person. "It's getting late, though, Ange. Max and I are going to bed, too."

"Max?" Angel tilted her head slightly at the mention of my name, and then twisted her head to look at me. Her eyes lit up brightly. "Max!" she used the same voice as she had given Fang. "Let's go to bed, Max!"

God, this child was so cute.

We walked down the hall, Angel telling Fang about how her day at school was, and how happy she was that it was a Friday. Fang nodded at the right moments, sometimes putting in his opinion on a few things. He listened intently to every word Angel said, smiling as she puffed out her cheeks and spread her arms wide when talking about the class's pet fish. Honestly, it was as if Fang were a _completely _different person.

Angel jumped into her bed, and turned to me. "Max, I want a penguin! Wouldn't that be really cute?" she questioned, her eyes twinkling.

A penguin, eh?

"Angel?" I said. "Baby penguins eat a regurgitated mixture of partially digested fish, krill, and an oily substance from their father's stomachs. Are you willing to eat a bunch of raw fish and krill, then barf it back up into a baby penguin's cute cheeping mouth? Like, every hour?"

She blinked a few times, but Fang chuckled. "She's got you there."

After we put Angel to bed, Fang and I just kept talking about random things. How much we hated Lissa, how Mrs. Doyle gave us _way _too much homework, and how things were just going on with our lives. It was pretty fun. I actually hadn't realized that it was getting late, almost midnight.

"Well," I said, stretching. "That was pretty awesome, if I do say so myself. I don't know why, but I feel like I've known you for a while." I tilted my head to the side.

Fang nodded in agreement. "Same. I feel like I knew you before two weeks ago. Like you're not even a friend."

"Oh, like a best friend?" I asked.

"No, like a _mega _best friend." Fang and I laughed. We walked up to his room, and he opened the window. I hopped from his balcony to mine, where I then opened my window. After I closed it, he smirked at me. I stuck out my tongue, and Fang gave me a '_Really, Max?_' kind of look. I responded by giving him a look that said, '_It's not my fault if you don't like it!_', and Fang shook his head before giving me a look that said '_Good night_'. I gave him the same one, and walked to my bed, sleeping as soon as my head touched the pillow. I hadn't even bothered to change out of my jeans.

* * *

I woke up to my head pressed against the wooden floor. "Wake up!" a voice bellowed. "It's another day, get up and face it!"

I glared at the figure that pushed me over, my eyes adjusting to the bright light in my room. It was Iggy.

"How the hell did you get into my room?" I yelled. I was really irritable in the morning; I thought I'd established this.

"You really need to lock your window at night." That _bastard_.

Without looking at Iggy, I ran downstairs to the kitchen. I was freaking hungry.

I grabbed a bowl of Frosted Mini Wheats, pouring the cereal into it. When I started pouring the milk, I stopped abruptly. The cereal was sizzling, smoke rising from the cereal. I smelt something burning.

"_Seriously_?" I screeched. I threw the entire bowl into the trash, huffing as I dug through the fridge, hoping that I could find something premade and _edible._

"Max, what's that smell?" Iggy asked, grabbing the railing as he went down the stairs. "Is something burning?"

"I tried to make a bowl of cereal."

"You can't cook? I can, move out of the way."

Before I could protest that a _blind _guy was going to cook for me, he pushed me out of the kitchen. "You have eggs, right?" he asked. When I agreed, he made me go sit on the couch. Well, isn't _that _annoying?

When Iggy hadn't been done for a good ten minutes, I was getting really bored. I grabbed my guitar, seeking some fun in the early hour. I sat on the porch, trying to think about something interesting. I thought of Angel and Fang, and how they were such great siblings, and then I started to strum.

_I've been beaten down, I've been kicked around_

_But he takes it all for me_

_And I lost my faith in my darkest days_

_But he makes me want to believe_

_They call him love, love, love, love, love,_

_They call him love, love, love, love, love_

_He is love, and he is all I need_

I imagined Angel singing this to Fang, but I wondered for a minute if she would even understand the lyrics at all. All I needed to do was picture Fang's smile while listening to Angel, and I kept singing.

I hadn't realized Iggy was standing in the doorway, spatula in hand. When I finished, strumming a few times, I heard him clear his throat. "Max," he started, "You're the one singing, right?"

Oh, right, he's blind. Like he'd know. "Problem?" I asked.

Iggy shook his head. "Nah, you're amazing. Anyway, breakfast is ready."

I gulped, making my way to the kitchen. Iggy seemed to be able to maneuver through the living room really well, actually. Sometimes, I forgot about Iggy's disability, he was able to act like such a normal person.

When we reached the kitchen, I gaped. In the middle of the table were heaping piles of eggs, bacon, and a _mountain _of bacon. Holy shit.

"Iggy, this is amazing!" I said, taking a seat. I dug in an ate, Iggy eating just as much as me. "How'd you learn to do this?"

"It's not like I can make Frosted Mini Wheats combust. I think that takes more skill." He shrugged, and I flung a bit of eggs at him. Iggy only laughed lightly.

We continued eating, and Iggy told me about his plans for the day—he was going to go with Fang's brother Gazzy to the old junkyard, hoping to find some tools for making bombs.

"Gazzy?" I asked. "Gazzy makes bombs?"

"Yeah. You could lock Gazzy up in a room with nothing but a bowl full of Jell-o and some dental floss and he would still find some way to blow something up."

"I'd like to see that," I said, laughing.

"Then you can tag along," Iggy said, also laughing.

"Deal."

* * *

**BLAAH. Okay, yeah! There's the chapter. Thank you for reading, and I'm so happy I have 30 reviews! That's a lot, seeing as this is my first Fanfiction. QAQ thank you! XD**

**~SilenceIsInfinite**


	9. Chapter 9

*****PLEASE READ THIS*****

**I'm SO SO SO SO sorry I haven't updated in FOREVER. If you guy's hadn't been reading my Author's Notes, I'd already told you I have Lyme's Disease. I get huge headaches and feel really tired, and there's awful nasuea in there, too. I haven't been doing so good the past two weeks, and I get out of bed at noon everyday. I go to school until 2:30, when it ends, and just work on stuff that I missed.**

**IN AN EMPTY CONFERENCE ROOM. No windows. Charming, isn't it?**

**I'm going to try to update whenever I can. I'm sorry that I'm being grossly weak! As compensation, I made the majority of this chapter in Fang's POV. Also, I added a little drama at the end.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Maximum Ride!**

**ALSO! LAST THING! The song I used in this chapter was "Skyway Avenue" by We The Kings.**

* * *

**Fang's POV**

It had been a month since I'd learned about Max, and I still couldn't believe that she was just like me. Just like _us_, actually, but I'd let her tell me that she'd figured it all out when she came and told me herself. It was just… so _perfect_, now. I didn't know what to think about that dare, but it must've been nothing to her. I should try to forget it too, but it was just so hard now that I knew she was also a hybrid.

Why were my thoughts filled with Max? I should be thinking about other things.

I opened my textbook. I was in the middle of a stupid lesson taught by Ms. Allegretti, the history-teacher-from-hell. I hated it when people were so enthusiastic, it gave me a headache.

She was telling the class about the French and Indian War when a note slid onto my desk. I unfolded it slowly, wondering who it could be from. I didn't look around to find who had given it to me.

_Hola, Fangles. Go out on your balcony at 7:00 tonight. If you don't, you're going to wish you had the ability to reproduce the day after. Got it? Fabulous. –Max_

I smirked. It was just like Max to write something like that. I looked over at her, but she was paying attention to Ms. Allegretti—I bet she was just daydreaming, there was no way that girl would be giving history the time of day—with a ghost of a smile still on her lips.

I gave her a half-smile, one that she obviously couldn't see. I wonder what she wanted from me, if it meant that if I was late I'd technically be castrated. I shuddered at the thought, and returned my attention to Ms. Allegretti.

* * *

All throughout school, I was wondering what Max needed from me. I noticed that she was avoiding me throughout the day, too. Maybe she was uncomfortable with whatever it was.

My mind went into a rapid spin of things that could have happened, when I heard the distinct of heels clattering on the floor.

"Fangy!" squealed the beast, i.e. Lissa. I didn't turn around. I mean, who would? I was kind of sure that she'd attack me with her heels or something. "Fangy!" she practically screeched. That must have been an achievement.

"What?" I asked icily. Her eyes widened a bit. I looked at her. Typical pound of make up on, typical clothing that barely covered her up. Disgusting. And then I looked to her left. She wasn't alone.

"This is Brigid, my cousin," she said, gesturing her hand to a girl who must have been Brigid. She looked like Lissa, green eyes and stick body. Her hair was red, but almost blood-red. Her clothes were better than Lissa's, but they didn't quite cover her up. Her heels were lower than Lissa's though, although I wouldn't call that an accomplishment.

"Hi," I said harshly. It sounded like a question.

"Is your name seriously Fangy?" she asked. Yep, she was stupid enough to be Lissa's cousin.

"That's not even my name. It's Fang. No 'y' in there. Put one in, and I'll assume you're like Lissa."

"Don't make fun of my cousin," she snarled at me. I simply shrugged and walked away. Like I needed another slut after me.

* * *

After school, I was getting really bored, so I decided to kill time at Nudge's. I dialed her number on my phone, and she picked up on the first ring. Someone was a little enthusiastic.

"Hello?" I heard Nudge's voice say.

"It's Fang. Can I come over?" I asked.

"Yeah, totally! We can go shopping for clothes, and everything! Besides, you really need to extend your wardrobe beyond the color black. Besides, we're in Arizona! It's so hot out, how can you wear skinny jeans and a t-shirt out every day? You're just like Max. Oh! Max! She was avoiding us today. I wonder why. Maybe she's secretly a superhero. Ah! Superhero! What if I could be called the Glorious Pink as my superhero name? I'd totally have an awesome costume! And a mask! But it'd have to be pink, because if it wasn't I'd _die_. Who would want the Glorious Pink to die? I mean come on, I'm so amazi-" I hung up on Nudge then.

I rode my bike to Nudge's house then, wondering if I could have a distraction from Max. I had no idea why I was thinking about her so much.

When I got there, I was surprised to see Nudge _still _talking on the phone, hopelessly in a one sided conversation with herself.

"Who are you talking to?" I asked, once I was in earshot of Nudge.

She jumped. "When did you get here? I thought we were still on the phone!"

Okay, now here's the deal. I love Nudge, she's like another sister to me. But sometimes she can be so _clueless _when it comes to using vocal cords. I wonder what she would do if she went mute. That would be interesting. And unfortunate. Yeah, let's move out of these thoughts, Fang, and onto better ones.

When I drew myself out of my head, Nudge was babbling about superheroes. I'd noticed that she'd been talking about them recently, and I found it kind of funny that it started when Max came to Arizona.

Max. She was so different than all of the girls in Arizona, even more different than Nudge and Ella; JJ and Angel. I don't know why I was pulled into a trance whenever I thought about her, why I could clearly picture her face when we were talking. Maybe it was just something that best friend's did. I'd never had one before, anyway.

"Fang? Fang!" Nudge called, an annoyed expression on her face. I must have been thinking about Max for a while now.

"Yeah?" I asked, an expressionless mask on my face. I don't know why my walls were still up with Nudge. They weren't up with Max, but it was _only _Max where they went down. Maybe it was because we were best friends? That had to be it.

"So how are you and Max doing?"

"Huh?" What was she on?

"You guys are dating, right? Ever since that kiss… Wow. Even _I _felt the sparks from you two." She looked at me with a glittery expression on her face.

"We're not, we decided that it meant nothing."

"So she didn't feel anything?"

"'So much that it hurt', she actually said. We don't want to ruin anything, anyway."

"So you like her?" Her eyes lit up.

"No, we're just friends." Wasn't it obvious?

Nudge looked at me, annoyed. "You're hopeless. Just get out of my house, it's almost dark and you biked here." Wow, that was probably one of the shortest sentences she'd ever said.

"Yes, your Highness," I called as I got up from the couch in her living room. How long had she been rambling on to herself?

* * *

When I got back home, I looked at the clock. It was 6:58. I had two minutes before Max was going to be on her balcony, waiting for me. I ran up into my room, making sure I looked fine. My hair was still messy from the wind blowing it while I was biking, but I didn't really care. It didn't matter that it was messy. It was a little dark anyway, because it was the beginning of December.

When I opened the window to my balcony, Max was already on hers. Her eyes lit up noticeably when I came outside, but they went back to their normal state sooner than I'd even confirmed that it'd happened in the first place. Maybe I was imagining it.

"Kind of cliché, isn't it?" she idily observed, walking slowly to get closer to me. I met her and put my hands on the railings.

"What is?" I asked. She snapped out of whatever trance she was in, and blinked a few times before regaining her composure.

"The balconies."

"Yeah, Romeo and Juliet: a mutant bird kid love story. I'd pay to see that." I shifted my weight onto my left leg. "So, why'd you need me here?" I questioned. Max hesitated for a second.

Wait a minute. Max. Max hesitated? _The _Maximum Ride was hesitating. The one who would willingly kiss her best friend for the sake of a dare. The one who wasn't afraid of _anyone _or _anything_. She actually hesitated?

Max nodded her head at me, and went to the window that led to her room, pulling something off the wall. I didn't see what it was until she brought it back into the moonlight, when I saw what it was: a guitar.

"You play?" I asked. She nodded her head at me. Jeez, who switched _our _positions?

"I kind of want to play for you," she said, a slight blush on her face. Okay, where is the Maximum Ride that I know?

"Kind of? Ouch, Max, that hurts."

"Okay, I _want _to play for you. Happy, Mr. Tall Dark and apparently now Sensitive?" she replied, rolling her eyes. She sat down on her balcony, and started to strum.

_He said "Let's change our luck"_

_This night is all we've got_

_Drive fast until we crash – this dead end life_

_Sweet dreams that won't come true_

_I leave it all for you_

_Brick walls are closing in, let's make a run tonight_

Her voice went softer as she eased into the next part, closing her eyes.

_Blinded by the lights_

_Hold you through forever won't let you go_

Max looked up at me as she sang the next part loudly, strumming rapidly.

'_Cause if you jump I will jump too_

_We will fall together_

_From the building's ledge _

_Never looking back at what we'd done_

_We'll say it was love_

'_Cause I would die for you on Skyway Avenue_

What did Max mean, by 'we'll say it was love'? I wonder what she meant. I looked at Max as she sang the next verse. Her eyes were sparkling with passion. I never knew that Max could play the guitar until tonight; and as cliché as it sounded? I thought she sang beautifully.

Like, angel sliding down a rainbow beautifully. Yeah.

Max laughed as she went into the bridge, making her voice like a whisper.

_Where are your guts to fly?_

_Soaring through, through the night_

_And if you take that last step_

_I'll follow you_

_Leave the edge and fly_

_We're finally alive_

I grinned toothily—yes, even the great Fang can grin—at Max, who was looking up at me. Her eyes widened a bit at my smile, but she quickly reciprocated. Max finished the song, belting out the chorus. It was amazing—she was amazing.

When she finally finished, she put her guitar back into her room. She turned to look at me with a grin on her face, and my heartbeat quickened. What was happening? I suddenly felt anxious, but I didn't know why.

"What'd you think?" she questioned, her bright expression still on her face.

I playfully scowled. "Oh, you're awful. Worse than my grandmother, and she's _dead_."

Max's features automatically darkened, making me think that her smile was just an illusion that I created. Weird. She scowled up at me, but I know she was just going on with it. "I've heard that the dead like my music," she said, putting a finger to her pink lips. My eyes met hers, which held a glint of playfulness in them.

"No they don't, that's why they're _dead_, Max," I reminded her.

"Everyone likes my music. It's because I'm charming," she said arrogantly, flipping her hair out of her eyes subconsciously. My heartbeat seemed to go faster.

"Yeah, on any day that doesn't end with _y_."

"Well played," she said, nodding her head at me. I heard an engine roar in her driveway, and Max paled. "Looks like dad's finally home." Max rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, I guess he is. See you tomorrow, alright?" She nodded, and ran into her room.

What was with her and her dad?

* * *

**Max POV**

"Dad!" I called, zipping down the stairs. "Where the hell were you? You've been gone for over a _month_!"

It was true. That freaking bastard hadn't been home since my first day of school. I wondered what had happened about him, but since it's _Jeb_, I didn't care too much.

When I got down to our dirty kitchen—what! Without authorities, people tend to be a little messy—Jeb's eyes were red, his hair messed up. A beer bottle was in his hand.

"Whoa," I said, coming to a halt at the entrance to the kitchen. He looked kind of tipsy. "So," I started conversationally, "What problem did you drown your sorrows in? Was it the guilt that you made your _own daughter _a mutant bird freak? The fact that your wife was dead? That you're a massive jerk?" I continued adding other problems, and he flinched at each one I added.

It was kind of funny, actually.

I was just getting to the part where Jeb was supposedly drowning his sorrows for being an awful father when he cut me off. "Stop it," he muttered. His voice was scratchy. Jeb looked up at me with an outraged expression on his face. "Half of those things weren't my fault."

This was just like a repeat with Lissa. "You know, denial is said to be an ugly emotion," I reminded him.

He glared at me. "They weren't. I don't think _global warming _is my fault."

Oh, had I actually said that? Whoops. "With your job? Anything is possible," I retorted.

For Jeb, apparently, that was over the line. He walked right up to me, looking down at me. He was about four inches taller than me due to me being, you know, a freak. I was leaning on the doorframe of the kitchen. "Don't you dare insult me, Maximum."

And then he threw me onto the ground, and started kicking me.

I tried to get up, but all that did was give him open shots at me. Just how drunk _was _he? "What the hell?" I screamed at him. This wasn't Jeb.

"You're so ungrateful! I work so hard for you!" He kicked me in the ribs, and I caught my breath.

"By neglecting me for a month? No wonder mom divorced you!" Jeb grabbed the beer bottle and smashed it on my head, and I felt the blood covering my eyes.

"Get up," he said.

I scoffed. There was no way he was going to intimidate me. "No."

"Get. Up." The words were practically snarled. I could already see black spots clouding my vision.

"Fine!" I yelled at him. I pushed him into the island on the kitchen and ran up the stairs. There were black spots clouding the rim of my eyes. _Come on, come on_… I ran into my room. Maybe I could go to Fang. He kept his window open. If only I could reach the balcony…

I had just opened the window and slipped on the balcony when I fainted.

* * *

**BAHAHAHA! DRAMA! I'M SO EVIL. Okay, yeah. I HAVE A QUESTION FOR YOU! PLEASE. PLEASE. ANSWER THIS. I'M BEING SERIOUS.**

**Should I make Jeb abusive? Seriously, I don't know if I should. SHOULD I? SHOULLLD I?**

**I don't really care about reviews, but I want 3 by next chapter! Just 3, alright?**

**~SilenceIsInfinite**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hi! I had a lot of free time, so I just thought I'd write. I had a tough day today, I've gotten a few PMs about how I've been doing, so I guess I'd just share it. :P I got up at 4 PM today. *Claps* With a ginormous headache. **

**Success? I think so. **

**Thank you SO much, everyone who reviewed. I only asked for 3, but do you know how many I got? 12! TWELVE! I've never gotten that many on a chapter before... I am forever in your debt and gratitude ;A; **

**Also, thanks for the answers about my problem with Jeb being abusive. I got the BEST answer from this one reviewer, who I am going to give a shoutout: THANK YOU WINGEDNINJA28!**

**WHOA! LONG AUTHOR'S NOTE! I usually hate doing that. Anyway, disclaimer! I don't own Maximum Ride. I'm not as cool as James Patterson.**

* * *

**Max's POV**

I woke up with an awful headache. I know; that's what _everyone _wants to wake up to: the burning sensation in your head that makes it feel like it's going to collapse.

Fun, isn't it? No. I'm not a masochist.

When I reached up to my head—the source of all my problems—all the events from last night were flowing from my head. Passing the note to Fang. Worrying about what he would do when he heard me. Fang coming on his balcony. Me playing for Fang. Jeb finally coming home. Our argument.

Jeb, beating me.

The second that my mind grasped the stupid truth that my own _father _had beaten me, I couldn't say I was surprised. I was extremely angry, though, because Jeb was a bastard, but… If he could put freaking _wings _on his own daughter, I don't think he'd have any qualms about beating her.

Oh, I love that word. Qualms. Wow, I'm off topic.

I opened my eyes: I was out on my balcony. I had remembered running here. When I looked down, I saw that my shirt had moved up to right above my bellybutton, where there were massive bruises. They were kind of pretty, if they didn't hurt like hell every time I moved. Or breathed.

I assessed all my other wounds: there was dry blood all over the floor from my head—which was still threatening to assault me—my stomach was burning, and I ached all over.

So, because I'm the Great Maximum Ride, and can do anything, I got up. I can't say that it didn't make me whisper 'bloody murder' under my breath, but it was better than staying out here. Not to mention it was morning. If Fang saw me, what would he do?

I cleaned myself up. Yeah, my head was screaming at me for being an idiot, and yeah, I might've banged my hip against the corner of my desk on the way to the bathroom. Kind of explains a lot.

* * *

When I looked at the clock in the bathroom, it was already seven in the morning. I was pretty sore from sleeping on my balcony, slumped up on the ground. I bet Jeb hadn't given a damn.

Jeb. I wanted to murder him, but I couldn't. Freaking law wasn't on my side. And I don't think calling the police would solve this, either. That would be the easy way out. I could deal with this on my own. I was different than most people. I just had to tell Jeb that he wasn't the boss of me. Maybe with a few punches, but that's kind of expected.

After I dressed in a pair of white skinny jeans, green converse, and a green hoodie over my black t-shirt, I ran downstairs, only to see Jeb standing eating at the table and reading the newspaper.

He looked up from his paper. "Hey Max," he started, "I made breakfast for you. It's your favorite."

I looked up at him, appalled. "Are you just going to act like nothing happened last night? That you didn't _beat _me? That you didn't smash a bottle on my head?" I was practically screaming. "What, do you think you could buy me back with pancakes?"

"Max, let's just forget it. It was wrong of me, and I apologize." He said it calmly, as if it was rehearsed.

"Apologize?" I snarled. Then I looked at the spot where he had beaten me. "You didn't even bother to pick up the bottle! All you do is _make messes_. You have no idea how to clean them up!"

"What did you expect, Max? Did you _think _that I could pick up the remains of something that I _used to beat my daughter with_?"

"That's no excuse!" I walked right up to him, and slammed my hands on the table where he was sitting. The plate of half-eaten pancakes clattered when my palms dug into the wooden table. "I have _bruises_. I have _cuts_. I have the fear that you'll do it again!" I was fuming.

"And you think I'm the only one suffering, Max? The love of my life is _dead_! Does that explain why I was drunk last night for you?" I looked at him appalled. "Oh, are you surprised that I wasn't drowning my sorrows because my job started _global warming_? That it wasn't because I'm _apparently _the reason for the tsunami in Japan last year?" Jeb looked like he wanted to hit me. And maybe he would do it again.

"If you loved mom so much, why did you divorce her?" He glared at the crumpled newspaper in his clenched fists. He opened his mouth to answer, but didn't. "I can practically see the steam from your ears. What are you going to do, Jeb? Fucking beat me again?" I taunted. He stood abruptly from the table, a look of dread on his face.

"Watch your language, Maximum!"

"Watch where your fists are, Jeb!"

"I thought I raised you better than this."

"What, in dog crates? You'll probably just beat me like last night!"

"I will _never _do that again. It will haunt me for the rest of my life."

"No it won't! You practically ruined my life! What makes you think you won't do it again? _You are my worst fear_." I didn't wait for his answer. I grabbed a couple pancakes from the stack on the counter and marched out the door.

* * *

At school, I was in an awful mood. If anyone bugged me today, I swear that I would rip them to shreds.

No pressure on them, though.

It was time for P.E., and Fang and I were the only ones out of the changing room—kind of came with the whole 'bird kid' thing. I was tapping my foot impatiently for Mr. Santora to get here, so that I could go in and burn off some steam.

"I saw you on the balcony at six this morning. What happened?" Fang asked, breaking our silence. I knew what he was talking about. He saw me all bloody. I knew I could trust Fang, but I didn't want him to freak out.

"With your IQ? I don't think you would be able to understand." I walked in the gym, with Fang on my tail.

"Seriously, Max. Who did that to you?" Should I tell him? _Should I tell him_? Ah, what the hell. We were best friends, after all.

"I'm not going to tell you here. Meet me at the music room during lunch." Fang nodded.

We were running again, me and Fang going the entire time with each other. I wondered what I would say to him. Would I be fine? Would my walls break down? Because right now, there was a huge crack in them. One that couldn't be fixed.

* * *

**Fang's POV**

Max was waiting for me in the music room when I arrived. Her brown eyes were full of worry, but also confusion. Her expression told me that she didn't know what to say to me. I was afraid she wouldn't tell me the truth, even though we were best friends.

She looked up at the door. I was leaning on the frame, watching and waiting for her to talk first—it was pretty much common knowledge that I wouldn't be the one to start a conversation.

I walked to the table she was sitting on, and sat on top of it. I leaned forward, looking at her, my forearms leaning against my lower thighs. My dog-tags were dangling in front of my black shirt.

"Well, I don't think you'll get it if you don't see the damage first," Max said. She arched her back so the top of her head was facing me. "He smashed a beer bottle on my head."

I sat up and reached out a hand to touch her head, and she instinctively flinched. I started spreading my fingers through her hair, where I saw patches of dried blood and other cuts. My finger probed one of them gently, but even the touch was enough to make Max wince. Who did this to her?

When I put my hands back at my thighs, she sighed and jumped off the table. Max lifted her shirt high enough so I could see the bottom of her bra, but my eyes didn't linger there. My attention was directly on the middle of her stomach, where a massive bruise had formed. It was black and blue and green and yellow and just about any other color a bruise could be, and it went from just above her jeans to three inches above her bellybutton.

"Who did this to you?" I asked quietly, my tone hushed. It was like I was whispering. With a secret like this, it seemed natural to seem secretive.

"Jeb."

One word. One word was all she said, but that one word was enough to make my anger rise twenty times higher. _Her own father did this to her_, I thought. _And he didn't even care_.

"Why?"

"He was drunk." Her voice was small, a tone that I'm positive she didn't want anyone to hear. But I had heard it. I had heard what she'd said. I had _seen _her body hang limply on her balcony when I woke up this morning. I had to force myself not to call the police, not to freak out—because I knew Max was strong. And with this tone of voice? I wanted to reassure myself, but I couldn't.

I refused to believe that Max was hurting.

"It'll be alright," I said soothingly. She was still standing in the middle of the room, her shirt still lifted, that bruise still there. Then I thought for a minute. "Did he do anything else to you?"

"No."

"What are you going to do about this, Max?"

My question seemed to have struck home. Max dropped her shirt, but her hands were still up by her chest. Her eyes were blank, but I knew she was thinking.

"I told him off this morning," she started. "He said he would never do it again. He already apologized, but we argued anyway."

"You'll be okay." I slid off the table and walked to the middle of the room up to Max. "Because you're the great Maximum Ride. Because you're my best friend."

Max's eyes started to water, and she ran up to me and hugged me. "You're so cliché," she muttered, her face buried in my shirt. I could feel her wistful smile.

"But you love me anyway," I said playfully. She laughed, but it sounded more like she was choking on her own tears.

And then Max started to cry. She sunk onto the floor, dragging me down with her. I felt her salty tears on my shirt, but I didn't care that she was getting me wet. I whispered nothings into her ear and comforted her, stroking her hair. Her fists were clenching my shirt.

I didn't say anything that would reassure her. I just let her cry. Even Max needed someone to steady her when she was about to fall.

* * *

**Max's POV**

Well, good to know I'm the weak one in me and Fang's friendship.

Fang didn't say anything as he stroked my hair and let me cry. It wasn't the whole cliché love story, where I have some freakishly strange epiphany that I was_ deeply in love _with Fang Richards. Yeah. That's not what happened. What _did _happen, was probably something weirder.

I was _still _crying into Fang, his arms wrapped around me. It was a cloudy day, so it was dark with the lights off. We were in the middle of the music room, my sobs not really down for the count. I sounded kind of pitiful, but that's just my speculation. And really, it was kind of nice until I heard the door open.

I didn't move. Really, I didn't think it was important. They could do whatever they needed and leave. Fang, though, _stupid_ Fang had to look up and see who it was.

"No, no, no, it's not what you thi—" he started. And then I heard a _click _of a camera, and some running.

I didn't lift my head. "Who was that?" I asked, my voice sounding foreign.

"Let's say that there's a picture of us hugging on Iggy's phone, now."

"He's going to die young, you know."

"He will if you're within fifty feet of him, that is."

I laughed. Leave it to Fang to cheer me up. I lifted my head and looked at him in the eyes. I felt like I owed him. "Err, I don't know how to put this…"

"You have an undying love for me?" I smacked him.

"No."

"You sure?" he taunted. I smacked him again, and he chuckled.

"Positive. Now, I've never thanked someone before," I started. Fang looked at me in a mixture of surprise and amusement. "But thank you." The words were so quiet, I wasn't sure even _I _heard them.

"What did you say?" Fang said, moving a hand from behind my back and to his ear.

"Thank you," I said a fraction quieter. There was no way he was going to get it out of me.

"I can't hear you!" Fang replied in a singsong voice. I face palmed inwardly. Damn him.

"Thank you!" I shouted loudly. I wasn't sure if the entire school had heard me.

"No problem." And he stuck his tongue out at me.

"Real mature," I observed, rolling my eyes.

"Says the girl who just cried into me for about twenty minutes like an eight year old."

"You're a jerk."

"No, I'm your best friends. I have the rights to do this."

I stuck out my tongue at him.

* * *

**Okay! Here's the deal about Jeb, for all of you who were wondering: I'm going to make him half-and-half, just like WingedNinja28 suggested. Some of you had a sadistic side, some of you were major pacifists. So, I'm kind of using...both? **

**It wasn't answered in this chapter, but it'll be more clear in the next so you aren't confused.**

**As for reviews... Can I have 5? Just 5? That's all I need to put up another chapter. Thank you! :D You guys are MAJOR support.**

**~SilenceIsInfinite**


	11. Chapter 11

**WELL HELLO! My sister graduated yesterday from college, so I was in California forever... and I didn't have a computer to write with! OH, THE HORROR! Anyway, this chapter goes from funny to sad to deep to faxness, so I hope this works as a good compensation(;**

**Also, to my very frequent reviewer/friend, whiteangel101, pacifists are people who are completely against fighting. Hurdurdur!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride...*depressing aura*... That's James Patterson's job.**

* * *

Fang and I walked back to lunch together in a comfortable silence. It wasn't awkward, because we honestly had nothing to say, so I mean, why fill up a great silence with words? Come on. Emotions stink, and we both knew that. So, why would there be a need to talk?

Maybe I could impart my wisdom on Nudge? Oh, _yes_.

"He does anything to you again, I'm _never _going to leave you alone. Got it?" Fang asked, breaking the silence.

"Clingy, much?" I asked, rolling my eyes. He punched me playfully.

"Yeah, I guess. You're not someone I'd like to lose."

"But of course. After all, I _am _amazing, beautiful, witty, smart-"

"-Stuck up, sarcastic, meaner than a rabid wolverine," Fang continued, counting off the insults on his fingers.

"And able to kick you so hard where the sun doesn't shine that you'd lose the ability to reproduce!" I said, smiling innocently.

"Doesn't that just clarify those things I just said?"

"Pretty much."

We were about to go into the lunch room when the bell rang for the next class. How long had we been there? Wait, how long had I been crying?

Shit.

Maybe Fang's one to forget?

* * *

The rest of the day was surprisingly and beautifully quiet, considering my crying fest, and considering the fact that I had _two _people on the 'List of Who to Maim'. I mean, even I need some quiet in my life. I was dumping my books into my bag, not even bothering that the pages were ripping and getting all messed up.

I mean, who would? My _God_. Ever heard of 'nobody's perfect'? Of course not. You know, because you think you're perfect and all that jazz.

I swung my backpack over my shoulder, wincing as the weight crashed on my disgustingly weak personality of today. I would never live down the fact that I'd cried in front of Fang.

Hell, I'd probably have to avoid him.

When I was walking down the depressing stairs of Greenwood High, I was tackled to the ground by a blob of brown. Literally. I hit the ground with a _thunk_, face planting on the ground. I sucked in a breath as my already bruised stomach scraped against the concrete.

Lovely.

"Max! Oh my God, where were you at lunch? I _totally _missed you! I mean, you were gone for like, an hour, but still, it's so depressing without you at our table! Ohmigod, Fang wasn't there either… Were you guys making out in the closet? Or the music room! OMG I saw that picture of you and Fang on Iggy's phone! Are you guys together? It was _so _funny, the look on Fang's face! I could die happy with that face! OHMIGOD, did he ask you out on a date? Can we like, get dressed together tonight? I'd _so _want—"

You know, a girl could only dream about silence. I forgot about that _teensy _important detail.

"_Nudge_!" I screamed. She immediately stopped, and I dragged my sorry little ass up off the ground. People were staring. "Fang was just comforting me. My home life isn't the best right now, alright?"

Nudge's eyes widened, but she didn't say anything on what I'd just told her. "So, you guys _aren't _going out?"

I face palmed. I mean, I knew that I was already bruised and pummeled by a freaking _gossip_, but it seemed appropriately. I gave a death glare to Nudge, and she changed the topic.

"Anyway, I'm having a sleepover tonight! We haven't done anything in a while, so I thought, 'why not'? Fang'll be there, because I know you don't do anything without him, annoying as it is! Iggy will be there, oooh, and Ella; they're so cute together! Oh, and JJ and Sam; that'll be perfect! Anyway, meet me at my house at six, okay? Ask Fang to come with you, because I'm, like, too lazy to give you my address! Okay, bye!" Nudge waved at me.

Did I mention that girl said that entire thing in one freaking breath? Damn.

* * *

Fang and I walked home together after working at the library for a project we were doing together. When we were about to go into our separate houses, both of us at our doors, I remembered what Nudge had told me.

"Oi! Fang! Get on your stupid underused balcony at five, alright?" I called. He nodded and I went into my house, checking the time on my phone: 4:30 PM. I had a half hour of down time. I stepped inside.

…And immediately started coughing up for air.

There was a revolting smell of booze, you know, like stale beer? I followed the…err... _stench_ up and into my room.

Beer bottles were everywhere. In the corner, on the desk, on the bed, even freaking on the window sill! And then I saw a bunch of pictures trailing to a corner. Ones of me in the school. Ones of my mother.

And then, there was Jeb.

Now, imagine this: your dad is crying over you, and the only possible reasons as to why are either A) you're a nuisance, B) you're dead, or C) he hates you. And, what do you pick for the answer?

The silent D to it: all of the above.

So you can see why I was freaking out in my mind, right?

"Jeb?" I called out, teetering on one foot to see him. He was hunched over an album in the corner. Kind of pathetic, but I wasn't in the mood for it.

He turned around. His eyes were bloodshot. He'd forgotten to shave—Jeb always shaved after I left for school, I don't know why—typical five o' clock shadow. His eyes were glassy, but narrowed when they realized it was _me_. The girl in the pictures, the girl who he'd hit this morning.

Oh, and I don't know, his daughter? Maybe?

"Hello, Valencia," he said shakily. _Okay, what_?

"It's Max, stupid." Yeah, I didn't mean for it to come out like that, but Jeb just looked so _weak_. So _pathetic_.

"You're such a bitch, Valencia. I'm glad I cheated on you." His words were spat at me.

"What? You _cheated _on mom!"

"Old news, _darling_." Jeez, when did I get a schizophrenic dad?

My thoughts were racing, but I was snapped out of it when he came closer, his pungent breath on my face. I stepped backward, the light from the window-door on me as I was in the middle of it. He came to me. And he slapped me.

"What the _fuck_, Jeb? You said you weren't going to do this!" I said, holding onto my face. It hurt like _hell_.

"Oh, and you've made promises that you've been able to keep?" He asked. Jeb grabbed a bottle from the window sill and smashed it against my left arm.

I cussed out loud. "Fuck!" I tried to hit him with my right arm, but I was left-handed. It didn't even look like it hurt him.

"Get a grip. I'm doing this for you."

My mind froze at once. I could feel the pain as Jeb hit me with broken bottle, some shards getting in my skin. It hurt like a bitch, but I was stronger than this.

But… he was doing this for _me_? Who does he think he is, God? Savior, and all that? He hasn't done squat ever since I was born. This wasn't for me. It was selfish. Why was I even thinking about this?

I shook my head, realizing that I was on the ground. Mixed with the beer was a coppery smell, which I knew to be my blood.

Cue overly dramatic "ew" from me.

Well, maybe not in this situation, but still.

I tried to get up off the floor, but all that time spacing kind of took its toll on me. He kept beating me until I slapped him with my left hand, even though my arm felt like it was burning. His glazed eyes widened.

He blinked a few times, as if he couldn't look at the sight of his daughter on the ground in a pool of her own blood, on the brink of consciousness. Looks like he sobered up for the grand finale.

The little schmuck.

"I was drunk, Max…" he trailed off. What was there to say, really? _Oh, I'm sorry that I just pummeled you to near death, forgive me_?

"Save it," I croaked. He got off me and went down into his room. I groaned and moved my head to the right. My mickey mouse alarm clock said the time was 4:58 PM.

Wait.

_Fang is going to be here, stupid_! A voice in my head chastised me. Oh, you don't have one?

You can get them at Target.

I got up the floor, irritated, and dragged my pathetic little self to the bathroom. I couldn't do anything about the blood on my carpet, but I didn't really care because the floor was dark. Quickly, I went into my room and got a pair of black shorts. I put them on and threw off my top. I was just in my sports bra, so I could see everything that happened. And then I washed out all of the cuts. That was all I _could _do, because there was an incessant sound of knocking on my window.

Joyous joys, Fang was waiting for me. I heard the window open, and Fang come in.

"Max, you should really lock your win—" he stopped himself. He'd probably seen all the beer bottles in my room, probably smelt blood and booze. "Max?" he asked. Fang was trying to be stoic, but I could hear the worry in his voice. "Max, where are you?"

I realized then that the bathroom door was open, and cussed under my breath. Stupidly, might I add, because Fang had raptor hearing. He picked it up and sped to the bathroom.

Just dandy.

* * *

**Fang's POV**

"Fuck," I heard Max swear from the other room. I followed her voice and into the bathroom, where the door was open.

I looked inside. The damage was gruesome.

Max was standing in the middle room in a sports bra and black shorts, her wings half-stretched out because of the small bathroom. One of her legs was on the toilet, a cloth that was soaked with blood wiping a wound on her leg. Her face had slashes on it, and I could have sworn I'd seen glass sticking out of her left cheek. Her left arm was hanging limply to her side, though I couldn't see what was wrong with it—it was facing the wall. Her legs were bruised. Her lip was split, and there was dry blood on the side of her mouth; it was like she was throwing up blood. The bruise on her stomach had a bandage on it, one that I'd gotten from the nurse's office, but was shredded. Blood oozed from it. Her legs were a mesh of red and white, her skin a ghostly pale. Max's eyes were wide.

I was more than angry. I felt _murderous_.

"Fang…" she started. Max wasn't stupid. She could tell that I knew that Jeb had done this to her, which is why she didn't even bother.

She looked so broken. Could she really be the girl who beat me up when I first met her? The girl who mysteriously was in an alley at four in the morning?

No. This wasn't Max. Max was strong and beautiful, witty and dangerous. This Max, I didn't even want to see her right now.

And I felt disgusted at myself for that.

I was snapped from my thoughts when Max said something. I didn't hear her, I wonder why?

"Fang, fucking _say _something!" she demanded. She was now standing at me, arms crossed. Well, they were supposed to be crossed, but her left arm was loosely tucked into her armpit. And then I saw the gash on her arm.

I didn't say anything, I just walked up to her calmly. She flinched, and then scowled, realizing what she was doing.

"Max," I started, looking at her directly in the eyes. "You don't have to be all high and mighty. You don't have to go through this alone."

She looked peeved. "Who says I'm going through something, anyway?" she snarled.

"I'm here for you, stupid," I said, pulling her into a gentle hug so that she wouldn't feel pain.

"That's the first time someone's said that to me," she blurted, as if she didn't want me to hear it. But I did.

"It'll be alright. These wounds will patch up in no time. I give it a week, with our mutant bird kid healing powers," I said, trying to rip away the gloom of the situation.

"Healing powers?" she asked.

"Yeah, duh?" I asked, turning it into a question. We heal wounds really fast almost half the amount of time than humans.

"You must be a different generation, I don't have that." Max furrowed her eyebrows.

"But we're almost the same age," I pointed out.

"I don't know, maybe there was a cut? I'm two months older than you."

I nodded, and then stepped away from her, looking at all of the cuts on her. "What are we going to do about this?" I asked. There were bottles and bottles of beer on the ground in Max's room.

And then she blushed as I looked at her body, assessing all the wounds.

Oh. It didn't occur to me that she was barely wearing anything. My eyes immediately went to anywhere _but _her body. "Sorry," I said, avoiding her eyes. "I forgot that… err…"

"That I was a girl?"

"No, never mind." _That you actually had a nice body._

She didn't press on the matter, though, like I thought she would. Thank God.

"I'm here for you, Max. I'll never leave," I reminded her.

"You know, there's a point where it goes from friendship to stalkerish," she observed sarcastically.

"Welcome back to earth, Max. I've missed your personality." I gave a light laugh, one that didn't suit myself.

"We've been expecting you, Lord Fangles," she murmured under her breath with an annoyed tone.

We started cleaning her up.

* * *

**Phew. Okay, I'm going to make a huge development next chapter for the plot ^_^ Just saying!**

**~SilenceIsInfinite**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hi. I'm not feeling too great. I know, I know, I should stop being weak. Hopefully, I'll get better, and I'll be able to update quicker! I don't have a lot of time to update, but it's not because I'm busy. I'm busy sleeping, getting headaches, and making up schoolwork that I missed during the summer rather than being a normal kid. I'm too young for this! I'm 13, for God's sake!**

**Whatever. I hate complaining.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride. That's James Patterson's job.**

* * *

Flipping tons of concealer that Fang managed to steal from his mom's room later, as well as a few surprisingly comfortable silences, I was all patched up. Well, for now. I felt disgusting, because I wanted to let everything out. It was like there was a huge crack on the Hoover Dam, just about to spill, but not quite yet.

Does that analogy get into your pea-sized brain? Because it better have.

I had already told Fang about the sleepover at Nudge's, and that there was no possible way that we would get out of it. Right now, we were flying to her house. I don't know why, but it seemed that my wings were the only thing spared from the beating.

Well, one good thing had come from of that beating.

I'd guilt-tripped the crap out of Jeb. And I was pretty freaking happy about that, despite the situation.

Fang and I landed a block away from her house, on my command. Nudge didn't know about the wings, and I still wasn't sure I'd tell her. Fang might've told her already, but I didn't want to ask. Didn't want to impose, really.

Holy fuck, someone _help me. _I'm sounding like a goody-two-shoes!

I blame Jeb. That's going to be my excuse for everything that I do wrong. Get a C on a test? Jeb raised me in dog crates, not in a stable learning environment (Pfft). Punch someone in the face? Jeb raised me to be the 'maximum', and that includes being able to punch like the badass I am.

Yeah, that's a pretty good excuse, now that I think about it. Well done, me.

Fang checked his phone, it was almost seven. We'd already called Nudge and told her that Fang and I were going to be running late because we were 'babysitting' Gazzy and Angel, and couldn't leave until their parents came back. It was pretty prime, if you ask me.

The door swung open, and Nudge pounced on me with a giant bear hug. Fang's eyes widened. I sucked in a breath to keep from screaming.

"Nudge, get off of me," I choked out. She did as I told her to, but dragged me by my right arm, not my left. Thank God.

"Max is here!" Nudge announced loudly as we walked into her living room. I don't know how to describe it, but the living room was as trendy as her clothes. If I could use two words to describe it, it would be modern and pink. A _lot _of pink.

Nudge launched into a conversation with Ella and JJ, though JJ didn't really seem to be listening. Or caring about the 'scrumptiousness of Taylor Lautner'. She looked kind of disgusted at Nudge, her blue eyes narrowing a bit.

Observations… I sounded like Fang. Whoa.

"So, what're we doing tonight?" I asked Nudge, throwing my backpack of necessities for the night on the couch. Everyone in our clan was here: JJ, Nudge, Sam, Ella, Iggy, and now us. I looked at Fang, giving him a look that said _let's make sure it's something that won't hurt me._

He nodded like he understood the look.

"How about a movie night?" Fang suggested. Everyone but me stared at him openmouthed.

"Did Fang just…" JJ started, and then trailed off. She paled, and Fang and I rolled our eyes.

Iggy looked as bad as JJ did. He finished for her. "Contribute to a conversation?"

As the words left his mouth, everyone but Fang and I gasped. Their faces were pale. Honestly, this was as stupid as Lissa's high heels.

"I don't see how it's a big deal," I said evenly, plopping on the couch. Fang sat next to me.

"Of course you don't. You and Fang do _everything _together," Nudge said.

"No, we don't," we said at the same time. We whirled around to face each other, and he smirked. I glared at him, but he glared back.

It was really annoying how he could do that without cowering in fear. Damn, I'm losing my touch.

Again, I blame Jeb.

"My point, exactly," Nudge concluded. She wasn't talking as much as usual, I wonder what happened? Nudge turned to Sam. "Oh my God, Sam! We should totally watch _tons _of horror movies and stuff! It's already dark out, because Christmas is in two weeks, so it's totally perfect! I mean, we can watch classics and all that! Like Jaws, and Saw! Haha, that rhymes! Oh my God, and we can-"

I tuned her out then. Never mind, that girl was _way _too peppy for her own good.

Ella was the one who interrupted them. "Horror movies?" she asked, her eyes wide.

"Fuck yeah," I said, leaning forward. I put my elbows on my knees. "My vote goes for Nightmare on Elm Street!" I jumped off the couch and walked behind Ella.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her eyes wide.

"Whatever you do, Ella…" I quoted from the movie in a low whisper. I brushed off some of the hair on her neck. "Don't. Fall. Asleep." Ella screamed.

Everyone burst into laughter, and Fang even let out a toothy grin, which made me smile. Like I said, his laughter was infectious.

Nudge nodded. "My collection of movies are mostly horror, so I have that one. Suggestions, anyone?"

We put on our thinking caps—not really—when Iggy jumped from his chair.

"Texas Chainsaw Massacre!" he yelled. Like he was supposed to give a movie quote, he made swiping movements with his hand. "Hit 'er, Grandpa! Hit 'er!" he quoted.

So, let me get something straight: Iggy is blind, but we're having a movie night… I'm not going to continue to think about this. I'd go even more insane.

His proclamation seemed to set a chain reaction on everyone.

"I got it!" JJ exclaimed, punching the air with her fist. "We can watch Night of the Living Dead, too!" There were murmurs of agreement. And, like Iggy and I had, she put on a terrified face. "They're coming to get you, Barbara! They're coming for you! Look, there's one of them now!" JJ pointed at Fang, and I burst into laughter.

Playing along, I screamed, too. "Help me!" I yelled. Fang, who had caught on the second JJ pointed at him, looked at me menacingly. He then made a zombie noise, and slowly leant forward on me. I screamed for effect.

Unable to contain anymore laughter, Fang and I started laughing our heads off. He was laughing so hard, that it made _me _laugh so much that my sides hurt. His laugh was infectious, what can I say?

Fang's turn was next. "I'm boring," he said. "We can watch The Ring." Fang shook Iggy's shoulders, getting his attention. "Before you die," he whispered maliciously, "You see the ring."

Iggy looked hilarious, which caused Ella to start laughing. I was happy I had such good friends. They really helped cheer me up.

Sam snapped his fingers. "The Exorcist! We can watch that, too. The 1973 version, if you have it, Nudge. I don't really like that newer crap." And, like the rest of us, he jumped from his seat next to JJ. He made his hands in a 'warding off demons' gesture, and then thrust his arms in and out at JJ while yelling in a loud, serious, yet frantic voice, "The power of Christ compels you! The power of Christ compels you!"

JJ was hugging her sides, as were the rest of us. We were laughing so hard, and Nudge was already crying from all the laughs. JJ was laughing the hardest, though, because she was Catholic and went to church every Sunday.

Nudge was bouncing in her chair. "How about the Poltergeist? That's such a good one! Oh my God! Yes!" She went up to Sam. She brought a long, manicured finger on his face, tracing his jaw. She leant so that her lips brushed Sam's ear. "They're heeeereeee," she said quietly and innocently, but loud enough that we could all hear. I noticed that Nudge purposefully made her mouth _so _close to Sam's ear that when she said the word 'they're', her tongue hit his ear lobe.

The only one who was yet to make a movie suggestion was Ella. She was grinning madly at all of us, probably thinking the same things I was, and blushed when she noticed our attention was on her.

She thought hardly for a moment, I could tell. Then, a grin spread on her face, like she was thinking of a secret that she knew, but nobody else knew. "The Descent," she said simply. Ella faced Nudge. "Hey, there's something down here," she quoted. Nudge, Iggy, Fang, and I gulped. The Descent was made to scare claustrophobic people.

Well, that just _sucks_ for me, then.

"O-okay," Nudge started, stuttering. Ella had really freaked her out. "So we're watching these…" she pulled out all of the movies we'd just suggested. Whoa, she really _did _have a good horror movie collection. "The Ring, Nightmare on Elm Street, the Exorcist, Night of the Living Dead, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, The Poltergeist, and th-the Descent." Nudge stuttered on the last one. She must have really been claustrophobic. "But," she continued, "We're going to watch one more movie that I picked out, because so much horror in one night is like death. We're watching Gardens of the Night."

Which was an abuse movie. And Fang knew it, too.

We all nodded, afraid to speak when our sides hurt too much. Nudge, on the other hand, could never find a time when _not _to talk, so she was okay. "Okay. Then, let's watch Nightmare on Elm Street first," she said, popping in the DVD.

"I'll make some popcorn," Fang said. "Anyone want some?"

"Me!" Iggy said.

"Oh, me too."

"Uh, moi!"

"Fuck yeah," said JJ.

"Yeah."

"I'll come with," I said, standing from the couch. There were 'okay's from around the living room from Sam, Iggy, and JJ, while Ella and Nudge were giggling about something.

Eh, whatever.

Fang went into the kitchen and brought out nine packs of microwavable popcorn from the pantry, and started to put them in a bowl.

"Are you going to help?" he asked.

"Do you want to live?"

"Yes."

"Then, no, I'm not."

Fang ripped open another bag loudly. "Stupid," he ripped the bag open more, "Sarcastic," he tore another rip, "Devious," he kept tearing.

Unnoticed by Fang due to his attention on the bag, I tore some off, too. "Selfish," I said in the same tone, "Irritating." He blinked, like he didn't know what he was doing. Fang gave me a half-smile, and I smirked.

"Are you going to be alright during Gardens of the Night?" Fang asked the question that was on both of our minds.

"Of course. I'm Maximum Ride."

We finished making the popcorn and headed back onto the couch. I passed a bowl to Nudge, one for Ella, one for JJ, one for Iggy, a bowl Sam, one for me, and one for Fang. Some of us had gotten two packs, i.e. Fang and I. I threw cans of Root Beer at all of them. Iggy caught his, strangely enough. Sam's hit him in the head, because he wasn't expecting it.

Cue Fang and I high-fiving while laughing.

"Shh!" Ella said. Yeah, you heard that right. _Ella _said that. She was so enthralled in the movie that at any sort of thing that seemed wrong, she would give a little squeal.

* * *

We'd gone through five of the movies already: Nightmare on Elm Street, The Ring—I will _never _get over that girl's face—The Exorcist, Night of the Living Dead, and Texas Chainsaw Massacre—which had Iggy laughing at for some odd reason. Nudge had just popped in The Poltergeist when it hit two AM.

Lovely.

We were just at the part where the clown doll attacked the kid when I saw Iggy move over to Ella with no sound at all. It was dark anyway, so she didn't see him. My raptor hearing caught what he was saying, though.

"Boo."

Ella screamed, which made everyone but Nudge, Fang, Iggy, and I scream—we just burst out laughing. Sam, JJ, and Ella, though, they looked like they were about to piss themselves.

"Not funny, Iggy!" she yelled over the loud television. We'd agreed to make it loud: the louder the crash, the scarier it was.

"Really? Then why are we all laughing?" he inquired, then ruffled her hair. She pouted.

When the credits were rolling around, we were all wide awake. The past five, six hours were making me high on adrenaline. Now that the credits were rolling, and I was coming off my high, I felt exhausted. But I knew we still had the scariest movies for _me _coming up.

Nudge got up from her spot on the ground next to JJ and went to put in the Descent. She fumbled with it, though, and dropped it on the ground.

"Nudge, are you _scared_?" I asked with a tone of mock in my voice. She shook her head and pushed the DVD in the player and pressed play.

Honestly, I was scared, but I wouldn't admit to that. No way in hell.

* * *

The Descent went on slowly. It was so awful. Memories of the School were flooding my brain, and I felt like I couldn't breathe. I brought my knees up into my chest and shut my eyes tightly, covering my ears with my hands. They were just flowing too quickly for me to draw them back in.

"_Inject her with this," a whitecoat ordered to the one standing next to them. "And this," he held up another needle with clear liquid in it. He kept passing him more and more tubes. _

"_Why so many?" I asked, my five year old voice innocent and curious. I hadn't learned the art of sarcasm yet._

"_For your own good," he said. He had blonde hair like mine, but his eyes were a light blue. _

"_Okay. As long as it doesn't hurt."_

"_Deal."_

_But it hurt. A lot._

"No… No…" I whispered under my breath, so quiet that even I couldn't hear it with my raptor hearing. Fang could, though, he was sitting that close to me.

"Max?" he asked.

"No…" I couldn't hear him right. He sounded like that whitecoat with all the needles.

Fang didn't attempt to say anything else, but held me in his arms. I wouldn't cry. I wouldn't cry.

Fuck. I was crying.

Silent tears dripped down my face and onto his Mayday Parade t-shirt, which I figured out was his favorite, seeing as he wore it all the time. I didn't want to get it wet. And just as I started to push him off of me for the sake of his shirt, he pulled me in tighter.

"Stop..." I mumbled incoherently.

"Never," he whispered back. And hugged me tighter.

* * *

Fang and I fell asleep during Gardens of the Night. It was almost five in the morning by then. I fell asleep with my arms around him like a damsel in distress, and as we all know: I don't damsel well.

None the less, every time I tried to move from his arms, he just pulled me in closer and made shushing noises, the hot breath between his teeth rushing by blowing on my face.

And each time he did that, I'd float back into sleep.

What was weird, though, was that I didn't mind it.

* * *

**Hints of FAX? Yes, they're there. ^_^ I hope you liked this chapter, it took me a good 3 hours to write. **

**~SilenceIsInfinite**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hi. I thought you should know, I really hate this chapter and how it turned out. I couldn't get into Max's character like I normally do, so I felt like I was dragging it on and on. And in the end, I didn't even give a good part, just settled for FAX. I really wanted to make this better, but I'm just feeling too sick to make it that way.**

**For all the sadists who read my story, I recently made another one called "Painfully Shy", and I like that one a LOT more than this one. **

**This part is important, so listen. I'm going to this rec. camp to help me get better from July 8th to August 5th. That's a REALLY big time jump. So, no updating for almost a month.**

**Sorry that you have to settle for this...crap of a chapter. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride, James patterson does. **

* * *

Fang and I walked home from Nudge's together. I admit: it was pretty cozy in Fang's arms, especially if you were there for hours with _no _interruptions. Well, that is, until you woke up. I'm no early riser, and neither is Fang, but… you kind of wake up when Nudge is squealing like a chipmunk every five seconds, screaming things like, "OMG! YOU TWO ARE SO CUTE! AAH! WHERE'S MY CAMERA? ELLA, GET MY CAMERA!"

That's when it goes from cozy to awkward. Fast.

Fang was somehow still asleep during all the commotion, his arms wrapped protectively around me. Now, if you're the one saying "aww…" right now, you need to keep a few things in mind. Actually, just _one _thing in mind.

There's. A. Time. And. Place. For. Everything.

Did you read that with a pause during each word? I hope you did, because I did that on purpose to get it in your idiotic head.

And right now was probably the first awkward silence we'd ever had in our two month friendship. Because neither of us didn't want to say anything, but we thought that we should, but each attempt usually ended with "Um…so…" and inconspicuous cleared throats.

I couldn't blame Jeb for this one, Nudge got all of that glory by herself.

When we had to split to go to our own houses, Fang grabbed me and pulled me into a hug. My body still ached, but it didn't hurt as much as yesterday, so I could bear it.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"I'm hugging you, because if he hits you, I won't get to do it for a while."

I stuck my tongue out at him. "I can take care of myself."

"Which is exactly why I had to clean you up, and is also exactly why it took over an hour to do it."

"Well…" I said, trying to come up with a good comeback. "You're annoying."

"I'm not annoying," Fang said harshly.

"Oh, I'm sorry, do you need a band-aid for the wound on your ego?"

"Do you need a band-aid for that bruise on your stomach?"

I grumbled an incoherent sound that even I couldn't understand. Fang gave me a half-smile, kissed me on my forehead, and went into his house before I could lift my head up.

Wait. What?

* * *

**Fang's POV**

What the _hell _did I just do?

Oh, crap. I kissed Max on the forehead! _Stupid, stupid, stupid! _How idiotic could I possibly be? I banged my head against the door, repeating the words in my head over and over again. Why did I even do that? We were best friends! Nothing else!

I stopped banging my head and raced into the kitchen with an unusual burst of hunger, which was weird—Iggy made pancakes at Nudge's house. I made a bowl of cereal as loud as I could, which was also strange—I loved silence.

I inhaled my bowl of cereal, thinking of Max. Max, Max, Max. My best friend. My rock. The funniest person I knew. Why had I done something like that to her?

_I was just trying to comfort her_, my mind decided on. But I was still wary.

"Fang?" Angel emerged from the kitchen, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "You're so loud."

"Were you napping?" I snickered, teasing my little sister. "Aren't you six?"

"I'm old! I need to nap!" she defended. I chuckled, setting my bowl on the counter. I went over to Angel and picked her up. She squealed with glee, moving her arms out. "I'm flying!" she said.

I nodded. "Hey, do you want to go for a fly?" I asked.

She giggled. "Can Gazzy come, too?"

I nodded, and she ran up into her room to retrieve our brother.

While I waited for Angel and Gazzy to change and come back downstairs, my thoughts circled back to Max.

Max, with her dirty blonde hair that had sun-streaks in them. Max, with her chocolate brown eyes with emotions always dancing in them… I paused. Why was I thinking of her like this?

Best friends don't think about their best friends like this. Lovers do.

…And we weren't lovers.

Shit.

I ran my hand through my hair at this revelation. I wasn't supposed to like Max! Best friends don't _do _that!

I didn't have any more time to think about the impossibility of liking Max coming true, because Angel and Gazzy materialized into the kitchen again. I shoved the thoughts of Max into the back of my mind and gave a small smile to my siblings.

"Ready to go?" Angel asked. I nodded, and so did Gazzy.

We opened the door to our back yard, and started running the length of the yard. Right as we were about to hit the fence that separated our house from the woods, we leapt in the air and snapped our wings out. A few of Angel's dove-white feathers cascaded on the ground.

"Where do you want to go?" I asked.

"Follow me," Angel said.

* * *

**Max's POV**

I found myself leaving my house when I was slapped by Jeb, him telling me to go away.

Hey, no hesitations.

I needed time to cool off. It wasn't that big of a deal, Fang kissing my forehead, it could have been a 'loving best friend gesture'. But I wasn't annoyed about what Fang did, it was how I reacted to it.

I put my head in my hands. _Why am I acting like this_? I thought to myself, bringing my knees up to my chest. I probed my fingers against my forehead, which was still tingling. My body felt warm where Fang had hugged me.

What was going on? I mean, Fang and I had hugged before, so what? Was one little peck on the forehead something _that _important?

It was as unimportant as some of the things I'd read in our school paper, especially the headline of '_Unexpected Ingredients in School's Soup!_' that I'd seen last week. It was pathetic.

So, why was I overreacting? _I'm an idiot_, I thought. Yeah, that made sense. I'm an idiot. Why don't I just tell the world, now?

I stood on the rock I was on in the boulder field Fang and I went to on the way to the park, cupping my hands over my mouth like a megaphone. "I'm an idiot!" my voice echoed throughout the boulder field, bouncing back and forth.

_I'm an idiot, I'm an idiot, _it rang out Damn straight I am.

I sat back down, folding my wings around me like a blanket. I didn't want to go back home, to face Jeb, not knowing if he would be sober or not. I knew I was stronger than him, but I also knew that he could bring me back to the School if I was too much trouble.

Fucking annoying, he is.

My thoughts went back to Fang again, finally pushing through the barrier in the back of my head, occupying it fully. My brain was so small, of course that'd be the reason why Fang would be in my mind so easily! I face palmed.

It was like I was talking to myself. And that was even more pathetic than finding out the school's soup had chili powder in the clam chowder via newspaper.

Bah, who knows?

Fang, Fang, Fang… His eyes were so dark, like beetles. I found myself laughing at that, imagining Fang with beetle eyes.

Man, I needed to get a life.

Suddenly, I was angry. Fang and his stupid freaking shiny hair, his stupid amazing personality, his freaking good looks… I wanted to pound him to shreds in that instant, but wistfully also wanted that kiss on my forehead to be on my lips.

I stopped myself short.

What. The _hell_?

I yelled in frustration, stomping the boulder with my foot. Why was I acting like this? I didn't like Fang like that! We were best friends!

But did best friends sleep in each other's arms on the couch? Did best friends hold them while they were crying their eyes out, especially when ruining their favorite shirt in the process? Did they kiss their foreheads?

Holy shit.

_No! No, no, no, no, _I repeated over and over in my head. Why did I have to like Fang? This was just like all of the other cities I'd lived in before Greenwood! I'd fall in love with a boy, trust them with my wing secret, and then they'd freak out, consequentially avoiding me till I moved again!

But would Fang do that? Maybe he would. But I didn't know. I didn't know any of the other times. Why would this be so different?

I surprised myself when tears started forming in my eyes.

_Oh, hell no. You're not allowed to cry, _I told myself. I felt something wet on my shoulder, and looked up at the sky. It was starting to rain.

Fabulous.

I weighed my options. Stay here, or go home to Jeb?

Oh hell no, I wasn't going home yet.

I pulled my wings in tighter around me, feeling colder, when I heard a voice behind me say, "Come on, Gaz, it's raining. We need to land."

Said voice was talking to Gaz, and they were coming closer. And closer. And closer, until I heard a little girl's voice say, "Who is that? Why does she have wings?"

I lifted my head up, surprised to see Fang, Gazzy, and Angel. With their wings out.

Wait, _wings_? Angel and Gazzy had wings?

"Max?" Angel exclaimed, surprised. "You have wings, too? What are you doing here?" I was bombarded with questions when Fang's voice cut over theirs.

"Quiet. You're not letting her talk."

"_Thank _you, Fang," I said breathily. "Long story short, my dad was… is… a scientist for the School. Therefore, wings. Capiche?"

"But-" Gazzy started.

"Can it."

He quieted down. Huzzah.

"Why didn't you tell us you had wings?"

"Why didn't _you_?" I retorted.

He shut up again. This was kind of fun.

Thunder roared, and Angel flinched. Fang still looked skeptical.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I didn't want to go home," I said, running a hand through my wet hair. Fang nodded in understanding.

"Well, you've got to go home now," he said. Fang turned to Angel and Gazzy. "We're leaving, guys. We have to walk, though. No flying in this weather."

They groaned in sync. We all started walking in the rain, Gazzy and Angel skipping ahead of us. They were so adorable that it should be illegal.

Fang and I were walking in comfortable silence. I guess that was something I liked about him. After knowing I had 'more than friends' feelings towards him, I started picking out things that I liked about him.

Which is exactly why I'm going to turn into an idiot by Fang.

Whatever, I'm already one. I even admitted it to the world, so everyone knows.

Suddenly, Angel slipped and landed in a puddle. Fang stiffened, but Gazzy helped Angel up. She was all wet, so he gave her his jacket, even though it was also sopping wet in the rain. She took it and smiled at him, and they held hands.

Fucking jealousy.

"They're adorable," I whispered to myself, making sure the jealousy was hidden in my tone.

"Yeah, they are," Fang said, staring straight ahead. Wordlessly, he took my hand in his, and we walked side by side. I didn't say anything, and neither did he. We walked back together like that, hand in hand.

That was another thing I liked about him.

* * *

**Okay, that. Ending. Sucked. I feel like I'm about to vomit from this chapter. I'm sorry, again.**

**~SilenceIsInfinite**


	14. Chapter 14

**HEY! LONG TIME NO WRITE! I got back from camp on Saturday. I'm going to tell you this right now.**

**I. FREAKING. LOVE. THIS. CHAPTER.**

**And that's saying something. Happy reading!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride, James Patterson does.**

* * *

"Max, I'm sorry! Can we just forget about this? I've apologized to you so many ti-"

"Save it!" I screeched. "You can't get me to forgive you after all the lies you've told me!" There was no way that this _bastard _of a father would ever get my mercy. And I always keep my promises.

"Max! It was twice!"

"Yeah, twice, and that's enough for me to be able to call the police and have you arrested!"

It was only seven in the morning, and we were arguing. In my room. With the window to the balcony open.

I swear, Fang could probably hear it if he so much as blinked an eye open. Joy.

Jeb was losing his patience, but it was obvious that my glorious little comment had ticked him off. "You couldn't," he breathed out, his tone suddenly serious.

"It seems, Daddy Dumplings," I mused, "that I could." I was pacing around my room while having the entire scream fest.

Let's rewind. This morning meant school. And school meant getting up. And, if your stretched brains can comprehend this next part: getting up means seeing Jeb.

Wow, A plus gold star, children!

Ew. I could never be a teacher.

Oh. Right. _Anyway. _Jeb came in my room to wake me up, and I was instantly put into a bad mood. Fighting with him was pointless, but being near him was even worse. I had no idea when he would hit me again, it was like I was settling into paranoia.

It was like I was still at the School, and for the first time since I was ten and escaped with Jeb: I was scared.

Gross. Seven in the morning really drags down a person's self-esteem, huh?

Jeb was beyond pissed. And I've been at that, and honey, it's a point of no return. "Get to school. Right now. I don't want to see you anymore."

"Trust me, the feelings are mutual," I retorted. I slammed the door as he left.

I groaned. If we kept fighting, I'd break. And I'm sure that even though the world would _die _to see eight million more pieces of me, nobody in breathing distance would.

* * *

When I got to school, all I wanted to do was avoid everyone. To put my hood on and lower my head.

Which is why it really _sucks _being the great Maximum Ride sometimes, where you have to keep your head held high and hide your pain where nobody can see it.

Like in a trench. Or an abyss. The Great Canyon? Bah. Who knows.

There was someone I really didn't want to talk to right now: Fang. And there was a really good reason for that, I swear. Ever since my little love epiphany, I started believing that I liked Fang less and less. And to make matters worse, do you know what stupid freaking holiday was coming up? Can you guess? I'll give you a hint: elves. Santa Clause (For you dyslexic people, Satan's Claws). Flipping reindeer.

Did you seriously just get _Kwanzaa _from that? Stupid, stupid, stupid! I'm internally banging my head on a wall.

No, Christmas is coming up! Or Hanukkah, or Ramadan. Your choice, really. But for me? It's almost Christmas.

Now, don't get me wrong. I love Christmas. Really, I do. But when it's coming up in four days and your school doesn't let you out until the 23rd, you tend to not really like it so much when there's a two day preparation slot.

Oh, Christmas. Such a love-hate relationship.

The holiday was coming up, and that meant that I needed to get presents for everyone, including Fang.

Now, I don't know what you're thinking - but I've recently discovered that Angel can - but it's probably along the lines of 'shouldn't that be easy? Aren't you best friends?'

Well, let's piece this puzzle up in my inner monologue. I don't know if I even like him anymore. The more that I think about the way Jeb insulted me made me think that I was incapable of the stuff.

"Max!" I lifted my head up just to get tackled by a blonde blob. A very tall one. And sightless one. Pfft. Iggy.

"What do you want?" I breathed, clenching my bandaged arm. He's thrown me on that side, and I felt tears welling up in my eyes. I forced them back down, suddenly thanking the man upstairs that Iggy was blind.

"Christmas is coming!" Iggy said in _the _most childish voice he could muster. I would have been actually laughing my ass off, but my arm was throbbing.

"Really?" I questioned, sarcasm dripping in my tone. "Are you sure?"

"You don't need to be the Grinch," Iggy mumbled. I sighed. Still making the Christmas puns.

We walked down the hallway and to the lockers. "So, Christmas. Why so excited?" I asked.

Iggy stopped walking and dramatically held a hand over his forehead like he were fainting. "'_Why so excited?_'" he mimicked. God, he was awful at it. I sounded nothing like that. "Are you kidding? Christmas means celebration, which means fireworks!" he said as if I were stupid.

Man, that's the way I talk to myself. Ouch.

"So, it's basically the best thing because you can explode things," I clarified. Rolling my eyes, I pulled a few textbooks out of my backpack and started loading them in my locker.

"Not only that, but," Iggy's head moved both ways, as if expecting someone to listen in on us intently. I laughed inside my head. Iggy checking to make sure the coast was clear was comical. "Secret Santas!" he whispered in my ear.

"Oh, the glory of it all," I said, unamused.

Iggy and I walked to Advanced English together, talking about Secret Santas. Apparently, I was doing it with the others this year.

Oh, _God._

* * *

"Ohmigod, Max! Christmas is in like, a week! Can you believe that? We can buy each other presents, but we don't know who until Christmas itself! That's just amazing, isn't it? Secrets are so much fun, but I've never really been good at keeping them. Like that one time when Jodi Castral told me that she made out with Logan Lerman, but that was such a lie, seeing as Logan Lerman is famous and hot, and Jodi's _not_. Speaking of Logan Lerman, don't you just love the Percy Jackson books? I mean, Greek mythology isn't really my style, but doesn't Aphrodite seem amazing?"

Can you guess who said that? Yep. Nudge. The only person I know who can go from Christmas to Greek mythology in under five seconds.

"Uh-huh," I said, not really paying attention. It was lunch, and I had decided not to buy anything today. I wasn't in the mood for eating.

I know. Shocking.

Nudge continued blabbing to me, assuming I was listening to every word, when really, I was staring blankly at the newfound school's beauty: the wooden table that still had scraps on it. Nothing says, 'high school!' more than bits of mysterious meat on your eating space!

"Aphrodite sounds so cool, though. Just saying it makes me feel beautiful. Aph-ro-di-te. Haha, Max. Like, _Aphro_dite. You know, like afro? What if instead of beautiful, she had this afro that had a comb stuc-"

A hand slapped over Nudge's mouth, and Iggy sat down next to her. "Why was Nudge talking about afros?" he asked curiously.

"I have no idea. It started from Christmas," I replied.

Iggy shook his head and peeled his fingers off of Nudge's mouth, and we started eating.

In the next five beautiful minutes of silence, the rest of our group came to the table. There were stares at my lack of food, of course, and JJ even shook my arms and told me not to pull a Rose DeWitt Bukater and let go when I told her I wasn't in the mood.

Which made Sam start singing Celine Dion. And trust me, his heart will _not _go on with that voice.

Oh, I love my friends.

We kept talking then. There wasn't really much to say that wasn't revolving around Christmas break. And strangely enough, everyone was staying home for the holiday. Every one, even me. Maybe they had all planned something together? I had no idea.

"It's time," Ella said suddenly. Everyone but me nodded their heads eagerly. Time for what? Adventure time?

Ella pulled out a black fedora with seven slips of paper in it. Our names were probably in it. Which meant: it was time for the draws.

"You all know the rules," Ella said. Everyone, including me this time, nodded. "Fabulous. And may the odds be _ever _in your favor."

She extended the hat to Nudge after picking one, who then passed it to Iggy, then Sam. Sam reached out, and now I was left to pick. It couldn't be that bad, though.

I picked a piece of paper and then passed the hat to Fang. After doing so, I unraveled my own slip of paper.

_IGGY GRIFFITHS_

Oh, joy. Does anyone know how to shop for a blind pyromaniac?

* * *

I went through the rest of the day wanting to go out for a fly. Now, normally it'd be fine, but it had started snowing. And it wasn't that little flurry that showed that it was really winter, no. It was like a blizzard, and I could barely walk home. And to think that this is Arizona.

And when I did, I felt like an icicle. My hands felt numb, and all I wanted to do was sink into the couch and watch Sponge Bob Square Pants while sipping hot chocolate. For me, that'd be bliss.

Of course, I couldn't do that.

When the door opened, I noticed that all the lights were off. When I flicked them on again, the entire house was spotless.

Sure, Jeb usually kept it clean, but never like this. There wasn't a single speck of dust on the kitchen table. Not a stray hair on the rug. It looked like the house belonged in a museum rather than right in front of me.

I knew there was something wrong when I looked into the kitchen and saw that there was no food inside any of the cupboards. I wasn't that hungry, but there had been loads of it this morning. Something was clearly up, and I didn't know what it is.

The second thing I did was go to the garage. Usually, I don't go inside there, but I hadn't seen Jeb's other car parked outside the house like usual. I opened the door.

And it was gone. So was the car that he took to work.

That's just dandy.

I searched the garage as well, and everything was clean. Insanely clean, if I could point things out. It was like a band of OCD women had been unleashed into the household.

But there was one more place I needed to check: my room.

I bounded up the stairs and inside my room, wondering if it would be the same as the rest of the others. Empty and seemingly unlived in. Would it?

I stopped at my door. Possibly. But there was only one way to find out, and the paranoia was killing me. Impatience doesn't do wonders for someone with trust issues.

The door of my room wouldn't open. I put all my weight on it - which wasn't a lot - but it still wouldn't open.

I tried picking the lock, but there was a combination. For you idiots, that means that there was _another _lock on the inside of my door. But I could hear something.

Wind.

And there was a huge rush of it, too. The only explanation was that my window to the balcony was open, and that whoever had been in there had planned on me going in there.

There was no way that this wasn't a trap. I could feel it.

But I couldn't stand not knowing.

I raced down the stairs and thought of a game plan. If I went to the side of my house and tried flying up to my balcony, that wouldn't work. The wind would push me, and I'd never gain any height. Even if I did, it'd be too much of it. The only option I had was to go to Fang's house and into his room and hop over balconies. But that'd leave me out in the open for a good three seconds.

It didn't matter, really. I'm an idiot to begin with. And I've already admitted it to the world, let along Fang.

I opened the front door of my house and raced across the two lawns like a lunatic to Fang's house next door. It was frightening, knowing that there was a set up. And that I was running into it with a full consciousness.

I knocked on Fang's front door and waited with extreme agitation for someone to answer the door. "Come on," I whispered under my breath, tapping my foot against the welcome mat underneath my feet. I was about to try knocking again when I was met face to face with Fang.

"What is it?" he asked. Fang was aware that I knew that being outside during an unnatural blizzard in Arizona was dangerous. There was no _good _reason to be here.

"My house." I swallowed thickly before beginning. "Everything's gone. You wouldn't believe that anyone would have lived in there if you'd seen it. And my room. I can't get in, but the window's open."

Fang hesitated. "What are you suggesting?" he asked, his voice just below a whisper. But he knew the answer.

"I know it's a trap, but I can't stand not knowing. I came here to ask if I could jump from your balcony to mine."

"Max, that's a stupid idea."

"I know."

He sighed, knowing that I was only going to be stubborn if we continued arguing, and that it'd waste time. And what if those seconds were precious?

Gah, someone put me on Lifetime. My life is way too dramatic for my own good.

Fang spoke again after what seemed like a silence of eternity. "We'll go to my room and see if we can look inside yours. That's it."

It was a compromise, one that had the word _promise _in it. One I wouldn't keep if there really was something in there.

We raced up the stairs and into Fang's room. I tried to avoid all of the CDs on his floor - noticing how he never picked up his Taylor Swift ones; must have been a phase - as I pressed myself up against the window.

I was right. Mine was wide open, blowing in the everlasting wind of peril. And when I looked through to my room, I saw that it was just like the others. Every personal belonging seemed to be gone. Even my Mickey Mouse alarm clock that had lost its head after that one morning.

My raptor hearing suddenly caught it. There was a note underneath a small stone - to make sure it wouldn't fly away with the wind.

"I'm going in," I told Fang. He grabbed me by the wrist, but let go when I gave him a pointed look. "I'll see you in a second."

In one fluid motion, I opened Fang's window to his balcony and hopped over mine and into my room. I was surprised that I wasn't shot down from it, what with all I've lived with.

I brushed the snow off of my jeans and snatched the note from the bed. I unraveled it slowly, and then gasped, dropping it onto the ground.

_You never seem to learn, Maxie. Why don't we bring you back to school?_

I was about to call out to Fang when I felt a sharp pain. I went unconscious almost instantly, but had just enough time to see brown fur from my darkness rimmed eyes. One thought, as my head hit the ground.

_Ari._

* * *

**Oh, the suspense~ I'm so proud of myself. XD.**

**~SilenceIsInfinite**


	15. Chapter 15

**Hi! Thank you guys for reviewing... But I want to say something weird. I have 99 reviews. o_o 99! Do you know how close that is to 100? Yeah! Just one left! Let's hope I get a review so it's 100! :D**

**Okay, now for seriousness. This chapter is so angst-y that it should be illegal. If you can't handle it, then that sucks. I feel like crying right now after this chapter.**

**The song I used in this chapter is "I Swear, This Time I Mean It" by Mayday Parade 3**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride, James Patterson does.**

**Good luck with this chapter.**

* * *

**Fang's POV**

No. No. _No. _

I wanted to move. I wanted to scream in anguish. I wanted to do _something _more than stand here while Ari made sure Max was out cold.

She was depending on me, and I couldn't be standing here, just _waiting _for him. I had to jump into action.

Then why wouldn't my feet move?

In the most important decision of my life, my feet wouldn't even obey me because I was afraid. How many times had I acted in the midst of fear? Now wasn't an exception. It was me being selfish.

I grit my teeth and forced myself to move closer to the window. If I were to jump in there without a plan, that would have been worse than just standing here. I needed a plan.

But, like my hesitant movements, there wasn't anything coming from my unresponsive and delirious brain.

I blew out a long breath, contemplating different plans. Openings, attacks, evasions, and distractions. But everything I planned on doing would be worthless if I didn't put it into action.

Ari was about to fling Max over his shoulders in a fire man's carry. Whatever I did, I needed to act fast.

My brain let me decide on plan F, but it didn't matter. I was blanking out when Max needed me most.

It didn't matter; it didn't matter; it didn't matter.

I forced my heart rate to steady down, even though it was trying to protest when Ari looked into the white sky, waiting for something. About to give the signal that he'd gotten Max. I couldn't let him do that.

I felt my muscles cooling down, my heart rate slowing.  
And then I was invisible.

Taking in even and quiet breaths, I walked from my balcony to Max's. How long had it been since she'd played me a song on the guitar? _I would die for you. _Now was the time to prove myself that I would, too. Hopefully, it wouldn't come down to death.

I crept up behind Ari silently, and then lashed out, giving him a solid kick to the back, missing Max by merely inches. It didn't work, all Ari had done was stumble forward. Whatever they had done to him in the School, he wasn't the same seven year old they had tortured. He was older now, at least by Eraser standards.

My invisibility went down. I could hear my heart beat pounding in my ears.

_'Cause if you jump, I will jump too. We will fall together. _The words of the song mixed into my heartbeat. It wasn't about a suicide jump. The song was about sticking together no matter what - you couldn't get one without the other.

I wasn't about to change that.

"Well, what a surprise," Ari said casually, as if discussing the weather. It was impossible, though; his voice was a mix between a growl and a hiss. "Another freak."

I didn't say anything. Why wasn't Ari making a move? My eyes were calculating, which made Ari laugh.

"Give Max back," my voice ground out. It was pure ice, colder than any snow. You could feel the amount of protectiveness in it.

No matter what age Ari was, he would always still act like a child. "Nope." He popped the 'p', making me angrier. As if I had no chance against fighting him, so that there wasn't a point.

My anger unleashed itself on Ari's face when I punched him in the jaw. He grit his teeth. I was about to pounce on him, when I remembered Max.

How could I forget Max? She was the wrench in this fight. I couldn't do much without putting Max in trouble. Was there a way to evade it?

I stepped forward, cornering Ari on the balcony. His wings weren't enough to hold both him and Max, so I knew he wouldn't try jumping off. I had already closed the window behind me on the way here.

"Don't step closer," he warned me after I had taken another step.

"Why would I?" I asked coldly.

Ari didn't answer. Instead, he plucked Max off of his back like a rag doll and held her waist in the sky with one hand like she weighed nothing. Like she was nothing.

That infuriated me.

I didn't think, I just punched blindly. I had hit Ari's neck. His eyes rolled backward, unconscious or dead. Whichever it was, I didn't care.

_Eyes on the prize, stupid! _Some part of my brain snarled the words at me, unforgiving. I whirled around.

Max. And she was falling two stories down onto the ground.

A gust of wind swept over me, and I instantly felt my cheeks heating up with wind burn. She was falling, fast. I only had a second, and there wouldn't be a way to catch her. She would hit the ground, and it wouldn't be Ari's fault.

It'd be mine.

My body flung itself off of the balcony's ledge and into the open air. I prepared my legs for a hard landing when halfway down I heard a sick cracking noise.

Fear coursed through my veins when I landed on the ground. I needed to get to her quickly.

I sprinted to where Ari had thrown Max, a yard from me.

Her blonde hair whipped around her hair like a halo. Her eyes were shut peacefully. She looked like an angel. She _would _have looked like an angel if it weren't for the blood flowing from the back of her neck.

I searched my pockets frantically until my fingers grasped my cell phone. My thumbs fumbled with the keys as I dialed 911.

"911 emergency service, how may I help you?" a raspy voice of a middle-aged woman asked casually. She had no idea.

"I need help right away," I said, trying to keep calm. "My friend fell from a two story building and needs medical attention right away. There's blood."

"Calm down, sir," the woman commanded me firmly. "Where are you?"

"42 Oakland Lane, in Greenwood."

"Alright, sir. An ambulance is on it's way."

I was too shocked to stay anything. How long would it take for the ambulance to get here? I didn't have much time.

Max's pulse was getting fainter and fainter by the second. She would die if they wouldn't get here in minutes.

It felt like centuries when I heard the sirens of the ambulance. Paramedics were on the property in moments.

"Over here!" I yelled, picking Max up bridal style. My hand felt sticky with her blood.

A paramedic came to meet me and deposited her onto a gurney. They put her into the ambulance, me right behind them.

I couldn't look away when they hooked her up to all of these machines, wires and tubes stretching all over her body. My mind went foggy when all the memories of all of the School flashed in my mind.

Normally, we would never go to a hospital. And now it was needed, and there was nothing I could do about it. They would know about the wings. Mine, hers.

I held onto Max's cold hand as paramedics worked clumsily in the small space of the ambulance. I listened to the unsure beating of Max's heart, slowing and slowing with each passing second.

My hand gripped hers tighter. "You can't go down like this," I whispered. "You're the indestructible Maximum Ride." A tear slipped. "You're my best friend."

That's when the heart monitor flat lined.

* * *

_Scream until there's nothing left, so sick of playing; I don't want to anymore. _'King for a Day' by Pierce the Veil started playing. That was the ringtone that played whenever Fang called, and that wasn't often. I was confused as I picked up the phone, giving an uncertain hello.

"I need you to bring the others to the hospital the next town over," Fang said. There was no emotion in his voice, like always, but I could feel the guilt in the back of his voice. What happened?

"What's up?" My voice was concerned. Whatever was happening wasn't good.

"It's Max. She's..." He trailed off, and I was instantly irritated. Why was I being withheld from this information?

"What about he-"

"Get to the fucking hospital, Iggy!" Fang interrupted hotly.

That worried me. Fang never yelled at us, even when he was mad. He'd speak calmly, which was even worse if he were yelling.

But there was something wrong. Something was awfully wrong. I could feel it.

Fang let out a shuddering breath, as if suppressing tears.

"Alright," I said. "I'll see you there."

My fingers ran their way through my hair. I paced back and forth in the waiting room of the hospital.

Nearly everything was white. The only different color in the place were the chairs, which were a bleak and dreary blue of discomfort. Everything else made it seem like an alternate reality, like I was facing what heaven must be like.

"Mr. Richards?" I turned my head at my last name to see a doctor in a white coat approach me. Out of the corner of my eye, I also saw Iggy entering the building.

"Yes?" I asked. Iggy followed my voice and steered himself into my direction.

The doctor nodded himself at me. "Thank you for the sudden blood donation and information regarding Maximum," he started awkwardly. "There are questionable bruises and cuts on her body, as well as an infected wound on her left arm. Would you mind telling me where her parents are?"

I didn't miss a beat. "They're on a business trip in China, Sir. She's been staying with me."

He didn't look convinced, but didn't say anything. Instead, he continued. "Twice during the surgery, her heart stopped. If she hadn't had her fall broken by the snow on the ground, there would have been no way she would have survived. Two of her ribs are broken, and she has a nasty concussion. One of the bones on her...wing," he seemed uncertain to be saying the sentence, "is broken."

He stopped talking, letting me soak in all of this information. I didn't care about any of it. I only wanted to know if Max was alive or not. And if she wasn't, I didn't think I could live with myself. Never again. This was different. I loved her.

"Is she alright, though?" I asked uncertainly.

The doctor smiled faintly. "She's comatose at the moment. I'm not sure if we'll be getting a response. You're free to visit her, though. She's in room 302." He pat my shoulder and went to consult the secretary at the front desk.

All of this was my fault. I felt like vomiting. _Comatose? _Max, in a coma? How ironic was it that she was always grasping onto life by the last strands, never giving up? I wanted to laugh, and then cry.

Iggy's face was pale as he stood stock-still to my left. "What happened?" he whispered, his voice filled with enough worry that I was drowning in guilt.

We sat down in the blue chairs. I didn't want to say anything. I didn't want to tell Iggy the truth, because all of my thoughts would become a reality. It would really be my fault.

"Do you remember Ari?" I asked Iggy. He nodded slowly. I took in a shaky and uneven breath. "He came for her. He tried to bring her back to the School..." I trailed off, gulping. I didn't want to say it. "It's my fault."

Iggy's stiff body relaxed at my last line. "Fang, it's not your faul-"

"Yes, it is," I said stonily. "I made Ari drop Max after I punched him. The doctors told me that he died. Whatever. The School could probably bring him back to life." My words were bitter.

We didn't say anything for a few minutes, engrossed in our own minds, until Iggy stood up again. He faced me with a wistful smile on his face. "Let's go see her."

It was a joke, and neither of us laughed. Iggy couldn't see, but he was trying to lighten the mood. That itself was a greater feat than I'd ever done.

"Yeah," I said. "Let's go."

* * *

_Thump, thump, thump. _Max's heart was weak and uncertain, as if it weren't allowed to be beating right now.

I was jealous of Iggy right now. He couldn't see Max right now. Tubes and wires covered her so that you could barely see any of her skin. Her blonde hair was bloodstained, and her eyes shut. There was an IV on her left arm, connecting to an unknown liquid. There was an awkward bandage on her right wing, right on the tip. Obviously, these people weren't used to animals, and would never be if they brought news to people like they were animals.

"Iggy, she looks broken," I informed him.

Together, we went to Max's bed. Up close, it was worse. Even though my raptor vision could see her perfectly, it was different when I was less than a foot away from her. Her wings spread out five feet awkwardly, and her breath hissed when she exhaled.

And it was my fault.

I grabbed her hand. The guilt was almost tangible, forming a lump in my throat. I felt Iggy step backwards and out of the room, giving me space.

I don't know why I did it. But the words were pouring out of my mouth before I knew it.

_"Oh, Arizona, please be still tonight," _I sang. A tear dripped onto the crisp sheets, making the color a gray. "_Don't disturb this love of mine. Look how she's so serene..."_ I don't know why, but I had to keep singing. "_You've gotta help me out, and count the stars to form the lines; and find the words we'll sing in time._" More tears flew down my face. This couldn't be happening. She couldn't be this close to gone. "_I want to keep her dreaming, it's my one wish. I won't forget this."_ I rested my forehead on the mattress, rubbing circles into Max's palm. "_I'm outdated, overrated... Morning seems so far away." _I broke into the chorus, desperately trying not to sob. Iggy would hear. In fact, I bet Iggy could hear my voice singing, when I hadn't done so in forever.

"_So I'll sing a melody and hope to God she's listening, sleeping softly while I sing. I'll be your memories, your lullaby for all the times, hoping that my voice could get it right."_

No more. I couldn't sing anymore than that. Because the urge to sob overcame me, and I let out a groan of frustration. Why? Why was it like this? Why was I so desperate, so overcome with emotion that I couldn't think rashly?

Anger consumed me. I punched the wall.

My knuckles were bleeding. When I looked down at them, the crimson burned into an orange as my tears mixed in with the blood.

I opened my mouth once more with a sudden determination.

_"I won't let you down. I swear, this time I mean it."_

* * *

**I wanna go curl up in a corner and cry QAQ. I made Fang have so much emotion...Oh my God. I hope you guys liked this.**

**~SilenceIsInfinite**


	16. Chapter 16

**Hi! Here's chapter 16... **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride, James Patterson does.**

* * *

**Iggy's POV (Day 1)**

"Max," I greeted, walking to the side of her bed. To steady myself, I leant on the wall by her bed but stopped suddenly when I felt the rough plaster caved inwards.

I winced. Fang must really be beating himself up.

It was news to me that Max had wings. I mean, really? No wonder Fang was acting like a lovesick puppy. He'd finally found his perfect match, even though that had to be _the _girliest thought ever.

"Er, I don't really know what to do when people are in comas, so I'm just going to act like you're _not _dead to the world and see what happens!" I said enthusiastically. Why was I so nervous?

Max's parents weren't on a business trip in China, I knew that much. I also knew that Max only had a _parent_, and was always changing the subject when Nudge or Ella whined aout their parents being unfair. Two questions that I'd have to ask Fang: where they really were, and what was up with Max and her family. I knew I should ask Max herself, but I couldn't really given the circumstances.

"So, Fang is a wreck. I'm blind, and even _I _know that he'd beat himself up over and over again for you."

I laughed. This wasn't going anywhere. "I'll talk to you later, Max. When you're conscious."

* * *

"Fang, when is Max going to wake up? Is she tired?" I heard Angel's voice ask Fang. I was returning from room 302 and back into the waiting room to talk to the rest of the flock, but didn't dare turn the corner and face them to interrupt.

"She's really tired, Angel. Really tired." Fang's voice cracked as he said the words again. I couldn't help but think that he was just reassuring himself.

"You're lying," Angel said bluntly. I could imagine her light blue eyes pouring into Fang's dark ones in question. I almost laughed outright. Of course Angel would have known if Fang were lying. She could read his mind, and she knew that Max wasn't in great shape, either. And by the feel of it, she knew I was here, too. So why didn't she make a move to point me out?

Fang sighed. "I don't know when, Ange. I really don't."

* * *

**Nudge's POV (Day 2)**

"So, how's everyone's day? I know, I know, it's kind of crappy with Max in the hospital and in a coma and what not, but come on! I found the _coolest _nail polish last week, and I finally got to paint them! It's _the _cutest color, like, _ever_. It's sort of like a mauve, but it's really glittery and shiny! Hey, do you want me to paint your nails, Angel?"

I couldn't stand this, this _silence_. Everyone was brooding in their own little worlds, but the silence felt like it was killing me. In the School, the quiet noises of the other kids breathing wasn't comfortable like it was with the flock, it was discerning and uncomfortable. By listening to nothing but their breathing, my own inhales and exhales were dying down. So I talked. And talked, and talked, and _talked_, so there wouldn't be another opening for the sadness to overwhelme me.

"Angel?" I questioned again. Her head snapped up.

"Yeah?" she asked, tilting her head to the side. She was so cute, her blonde hair in ringlets that fell down her face in little curls. "And thanks, Nudge. For calling me cute. Now what did you need?"

"Can I paint your nails? I mean, just _look _at this color! It's totally adorable and would suit you perfectly."

"Yeah! Sure!" Angel said excitedly, moving from her chair and onto the white floor. _I hope this blows over soon, _I thought.

_Me too, _Angel's voice answered back in my mind.

* * *

**JJ's POV (Day 3)**

"So, you're saying that she hit her head on the ice and got such a major concussion and went into a coma? And one that has been going on for _three days _at that?"

I was worried. And this was the best that he could do. Wow.

Was Fang serious? There was no way that he'd be fooling me with such a lie. I could tell that everyone else besides Ella, Sam, and I knew what was really going on with Max. But how could I quesiton anything? I mean, this kid was head over heels for her.

He nodded, but his whole body seemed rigid and stiff while he did it.

"Well, that's obviously a lie, but I'm not going to question anymore. Anyway, who wants to play Scrabble? I know half of your spelling's atroscious, but come on. Feel intelligent for once." Fang stayed in his stone position. I smacked him on the arm, and he looked up at me in annoyance. "Come on. I know it'll be hard for you to be smart, but you're insanely good at acting. It won't be _that _hard. Just pretend to grow a few brain cells!"

"No thanks."

"Oh, come _on_, Fang! It's not that hard! And don't worry if you don't get it at first. I mean, practice is perfect. I wouldn't expect you to be like Einstein at fir-"

He smacked me and rolled his eyes, but looked at me again as if trying to thank me. I gave him an overly cheesy thumbs up. Anything to cheer him up, really.

Fang rolled his eyes again, but sat down next to me on the floor with my box of Scrabble. Nudge and Sam sat on the other sides of the board, picking their seven letters.

"I've got this," Sam said. He spelt the word _glove_.

With all the vaules, he racked up nine points. That was measly, I could win this game easily. My only opponent would be Sam, seeing as Nudge misspelled the word _rocket _and wrote _rokette_. And when Sam questioned her, she only shrugged and told him that _rocket _should be fancier and prettier.

Oh, yeah. This was going to be easy.

* * *

**Gazzy's POV (Day 4)**

"Can you pass me the yellow wire?" Iggy asked me. Without looking at the stack of wires, I passed him one. He frowned when it reached his hands. "Gaz, this is red."

He twirled it in his fingers for a bit before throwing it at my face with weird accuracy.

"Sorry," I apologized, scratching the back of my neck and giving him the right one. "I wasn't thinking straight."

Max, in a coma. I didn't really know what a coma was, other than that it was bad. Really bad. My eyes flickered over to the pile of bombs that Iggy and I had made. Each passing one was harder to make than the last, and took longer to make.

Fifty stink bombs, at least. Twenty or so smoke screens, and only five sonic blasts. I wondered what we would be doing with them.

"Okay, now. Hold on for a second." I felt Iggy move from his chair, my eyes still on the bomb I was currently making.

"Okay."

I looked up for a few seconds to see Iggy sweet talking his way into getting the receptionist's _hairbrush_, as well as her number, by the looks of it. Ella huffed when the receptionist batted her eyelashes and wrote a string of numbers on a slip of paper. "If only she knew how old he was," she whispered under her breath, loud enough that I could hear it.

When he returned to his seat, a grin on his face, we began to dismantle the hairbrush and put the sillicone beads into the makeshift metal casing in the back. We were running out of materials, so we could use whatever we found.

Discreetly, I pulled the vial of trinitrotoluene from my backpack, also getting my Gameboy Color. Iggy taught me not to cause attention. Who knew how many cameras there were in this lobby alone?

We put the trinitrotoluene in with the sillicone.

One bomb down, the time it takes Max to wake up to go.

* * *

**Ella's POV (Day 5)**

"I don't see why they aren't telling us what's really going on," JJ said, plopping onto one of the ugly blue chairs. "Don't they trust us?"

I bit my lip, contemplating what she was telling me. "I know. And they won't let us see Max, either. What could they be hiding?"

JJ started picking at her cuticles, trying to keep the picture of ease. Although she was trying to act like she was being strong through this, I knew that she and Max were as good as friends as anyone in the flock were. We were all hurting. "Whatever it is," she said, clicking two of her nails together, "We'll just have to trust them."

I sighed again. Why was JJ being so motherly? My eyebrows furrowed in thought, but then it clicked: this is how she dealt with all the madness going on. It was the same thing that had happened when her mother took a fall. I just didn't understand it.

But we were all acting weird.

* * *

**Sam's POV (Day 6)**

I let out a low breath. Six days. It'd been six days since Max had gone into a coma. And for what, hitting her head on ice? This just didn't happen. I paced back and forth on the white flooring of the hospital. I'd noticed that everyone but Ella, JJ, and I were on end about being here. It wasn't becasue they didn't like Max, it was because of the hospital itself.

I just hoped things would get better.

* * *

**Fang's POV (Day 7)**

Her breaths were steady and calm, unlike my shuddering ones. My composure was gone. How much longer would it be until I would lose everything that I had ever loved? How long ago was it when we had first met? She'd been comatose for a week.

I sighed. I couldn't even be in peace and know that Max was going to be okay. How could I be so selfish, so self deserving to forget about her when she was the thing that most mattered to me?

Max's breathing suddenly hitched, gaining speed. The heart monitor began picking up the pace, the lines longer and short. What was going on?

"Max," I said, fear evident in my tone. "Max! Don't give up!" My voice was a scream, the fear overcoming me. For the second time, I couldn't move, just watch.

Her body contorted as she thrashed in her comatose state, her legs tangled in the sheets a cocoon.

_Thump thump thump thump thump thump thumpthumpthumpthumpthump- beeep. _It flat lined.

Before my mind could process what was going on, I yelled and hit the wall yet again.

It was my fault; it was my fault; it was my fault.

"_Why are you doing this to me_?" I screamed. She couldn't hear me, of course she couldn't. She was dead. "_I fucking love you!_ _Dammit, Max!_"

My knuckles were bleeding, causing tremors to go off in my right arm. I welcomed the pain. Anything to numb me from what was going on.

My fists pounded onto the mattress by her lifeless body, sobs hacking their way to me and iching my throat. Never had anything hurt this much. Nothing had ever been this awful in my life. Not even the School, when I'd lost everything that ever mattered to me. I couldn't stand it happening another time.

_Thump. _My head jerked up at the heart monitor. _Thump. _Little lines were appearing on the monitor. Could it be...? _Thump. Thump. Thump._

"...Fang?" Max's beaten down voice asked mine.

* * *

**UUUGH, THIS TOOK SO LONG TO WRITE! I'm sorry that it's short, but I needed to capture this. ;A;**

**~SilenceIsInfinite**


	17. Chapter 17

**Hi! Oh, I like this chapter. Surprised by the quick update? Well, I couldn't resist updating so soon. Anyway, I liked how this chapter turned out. I promise there will be FAX in the upcoming chapters, alright? Just calm your waffles. The plot is heating up.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride, James Patterson does!**

* * *

**Max's POV**

Okay, ow. Crashing headache. _Crashing headache. _The only thing I could do was look at Fang in bewilderment because of the annoying tubes connecting to my body. How long had I been asleep? I mean, a few hours would be fine, but I didn't really know. Oh. I have to make my 'waking up scene' overly cheesy and dramatic, right?

_The white walls and white flooring and white bed sheets and every other freaking thing in this room were uncomfortable and utterly disgusting (And white). Max could only wonder in anger, 'Who the hell is the interior designer for such a disastrous place?!' Her body ached from the lack of movement - and also from the amount of weight in tubing and machinery on her - and could only move her head to the side to look at Fang, who had a brooding expression on his face. His raven hair swept over his forehead and onto his eye; he tried moving it, but it was a futile effort. One could only imagine what he was thinking while his obsidian eyes bore into Max's-_

My stomach grumbled, saving me from that disturbing mental scene.

"Where do I get some food in this joint?" I asked, heat rushing up to my cheeks. Now, don't kill me for ruining that beautiful moment, but my stomach sings the song of its people more than I can even talk.

Fang chuckled and ran a hand through his already messed up hair. How many times had he been doing that recently? "Well, that was anticlimactic," he said bluntly.

"Hey, what did you expect?" I shrugged my shoulders but then froze, my heartbeat thumping in my ears.

Now, imagine this: there's a bonfire that has ten foot flames licking the air, red and orange and dangerous... And then your head gets thrown in it.

That's basically what my headache felt like.

With wide eyes, I raised my hands up to my ears and pressed in, trying to keep my head from exploding. White hot pain was burning every brain cell, searing it. My senses were deprived, and I couldn't feel anything going on. I was going to explode, and trust me: it wouldn't be pretty, with burnt Max all over their pristine and _white _decor.

Oh, the horror. I'm quaking in my hospital gown.

Images plastered my mind while the pain went deeper into my mind, if possible. Places I had been, and places I'd wanted to leave forever plagued my mind while they switched at warp speed. The School. Greenwood High. Isleboro, where I lived in Maine. Mountains in Colorado, where I'd never even been before. A slanted house on a cliff side in the shape of the letter E... Erasers. Nudge. Angel. The flock.

And through the midst of it all, I heard a voice in my head. _Hello, Maximum, _it spoke.

_What, no Morgan Freeman voice? I won't listen to you unless you do the Morgan Freeman voice, _I thought back. I swear, I thought I heard the Voice huff in irritation at that comment.

Max: 1, Voice: 0.

_Maximum-_

_Listen, Voice. Yoda. Whoever you are. My head is kind of in the process of imploding, so I'd like it if you left my brain. As the saying goes, 'This brain ain't big enough for the two of us!'_

_What brain? _The Voice asked snidely.

Max: 1, Voice: 1.

_Remember, Maximum: If you want the rainbow, you must endure the rain._

I almost snorted despite my splitting headache. _Was that from a fortune cookie? _I asked the Voice.

It didn't reply.

Max: 2, Voice: 1. We have a winner!

...And that's when my head made an explosion that Gazzy and Iggy would be jealous of.

Just kidding. But you get the point of how I felt.

I guess the fire in my head died down a bit, because my senses came back a bit to feel a strong hand push me against something hard, the only thing separating us being the absolute _crap _on me.

There was ringing in my ears. I couldn't hear anything, but I could _feel _that something was wrong with this wall. I opened my eyes to find them trained on Fang.

Oh, what do you know? Fang's a wall now. How inconvenient, especially because I like him.

When the ringing finally subsided, my energy was falling down the drain. To be honest, I wouldn't mind just collapsing. Actually, that's what I would have done, but I kind of needed answers.

"Hey, Fang..." I started, trailing off. What was I supposed to say? _How long was I dead to the world, and why do I feel like crap? _Nah, that'd blow over like a ton of freaking bricks.

"Yeah?" he asked, his voice right by my ear.

"How long was I out?"

"A week," he said, sighing. "And it was hell."

"For you?"

"No, for everyone."

"Everyone?"

"Yeah, everyo-_oh shit,_" Fang swore, pulling away from me. "Everyone's waiting for you. I'll be right back, okay? And then we have to press the button of death to get the doctors."

I rolled my eyes but gestured for him to go.

_Man, _I thought to myself, _A week? How much did I miss?_ There were so many events coming up. Lissa, who grudgingly invited Fang and I to a party during winter break; Ella's dance recital, winter break, Christmas...

Oh, for the love of God. I missed Christmas.

I wondered how the rest of them had spent their holidays. Were they celebrating together, or apart? How did they feel to know that I was comatose while they were opening up gifts from the other, silently hoping that me waking would be on their wish lists?

Okay, maybe not that last one. But a girl can dream that she's loved, right?

My eyebrows furrowed, and I lay on my bed again in frustration. Had Jeb come home? Was the house in a living state, or covered in a layer of grime from all the alcohol he consumed on a daily basis? Or... What if he didn't even come home? That meant that our house was cleaner than a military general with OCD's bathroom.

That's saying something, too.

I sighed, closing my eyes while clenching and unclenching the white sheets. The others were downstairs. They must have been worrying about me. I could practically _see _Nudge chatting her voice box out, talking to Ella about every other detail _except _me. Shoes, boys, even the smell of the hospital. I smiled a bit, missing Nudge's chatter. Although it had felt like just a long sleep, I missed the flock, the way JJ and Sam would make fun of each other when they secretly liked each other and what not.

Wait. They didn't know I had wings. And, if I could tilt my head back to check, I was pretty sure that I had fourteen feet of them, in all their glory.

_Bum bum bum, _there was a knock on the door. "Max?" Angel called sweetly. "Can we come in?"

Well, crap. That gave me time to think.

"Sure," I said nonchalantly, positioning myself on the bed and trying to hide my wings in the slightest amount.

I jerked back and forth for a second as the knob tilted. Did they freaking _glue _me to the bed so that I couldn't move?

The door opened, and everyone filed in. I was waiting for their eyes to widen at the sight of my wings, to gawk in disbelief at the size.

But it didn't come.

Yeah. I know. And we're talking about _my _life here. What, no scientists confining me to a lab table? You just can't find people like you used to.

Sam, JJ, and Ella were the only ones with their eyes widened. The rest of them didn't make a single comment on the wings. In fact, they seemed _used _to them. Like it was an every day thing. But why the difference between those three?

"Hey," I croaked. My voice was sore already from lack of use.

"Max!" all of them cried, striding to my bed and looking at me. There were cries of _'you're alive!' _and _'Am I dreaming?_' from them at first, but soon enough they were telling me about all of the fun that I'd missed.

"...That's why we put Christmas on hold until you woke up!" Nudge concluded after a minute long word spew of why Christmas stunk so bad when it actually did happen. I tuned her out until that last line popped into my head.

Did she just say...?

Holy Aunt Jemima, she did.

"Really?" I asked in disbelief, my eyes widening a fraction at the news. They'd really missed their Christmas for me, _just _for me?

Suddenly, I felt like that's all that mattered. That they cared about me enough to accept my weird genetic mutation, get over the fact that I was comatose for a week, and just be happy enough to see me now and forget everything that happened. I smiled.

Somehow, the discussion swerved to _platypuses, _although how I don't want to know or find out. Nudge was talking about how God had obviously made a mistake while making the platypus and accidentally used 'Auto-Create' like he did with his previous specimen. The context was making me uncomfortable, really, the talk of 'specimen' and 'experiments'. Iggy, meanwhile, was bringing up a valuable piece of information: he didn't know what a platypus looked like. All in all, they sounded ridiculous.

I wouldn't have it any other way.

Of course, I knew better.

"Um... Fang..." I whispered, tugging on his jeans. He looked up at me. We were easily unnoticed, the rest of the group so immersed in the thought of platypuses.

"Yeah?"

"What are we going to do if Ari comes back?" I said gently. I mean, come on. If Ari had almost killed Fang, I would be lethal. It was best to proceed with caution.

I assumed that Fang would have the look of pure poison on his face, but he didn't. Instead, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. We stared at each other for a few seconds, just memorizing each detail of our faces.

"I don't know," he said suddenly. He brought a hand to my face and tucked a few strands behind my ear. "We'll find a way."

I smiled. "We always do."

Something stuck to me, though, what had happened before I woke up. I could hear something, something that sounded vague while I was comatose. I could render it now.

_I fucking love you, Max!_

That was Fang's voice. It must have been, because I saw him first when I woke up. I couldn't help but frown.

So, this may or may not be a problem, huh? They don't call me Maximum 'Charging Off' Ride for nothing.

* * *

Six days later when I really needed two, I was out of the hellhouse! Huzzah! Someone call those awesome centaurs in the Percy Jackson books, because I'm ready to _celebrate._

I stretched out my arms, walking to Mariah's car. Fang's mother had offered to drive me back home, so how could I decline? I mean, we were next door neighbors. It wasn't like we were out of the way.

When she dropped me off at the doorstep of my house, I sucked in a huge breath. What would I do if there were Erasers in there, or if there were bugs and cameras installed to watch my every move, to know where I was all times? Cameras in my clothes, bugs in the pantry... I couldn't fathom it. I opened the door.

Someone had been in here, and it wasn't just to steal porridge and break rocking chairs (see what I did there?), but to cause damage. There was something in here, I just didn't know what. And really, did I want to know?

Curiosity killed the cat, but I'm proud to say that I'm part bird, so that rule doesn't really apply to me. Cue dramatic laugh of success.

_Focus, Maximum, _I heard the Voice chastise me. Oh, so it was back? Really? I thought I was done with all the Confucius crap.

There were still no signs that someone had lived in there, still ready to be on the cover of a home decorating magazine that hospitals would burn in envy. I trudged up the steps to my room, noticing that the window was closed.

Oh, how lovely. They had the decency to keep the cold air out!

You shouldn't be reading this if you couldn't detect the sarcasm. Like, seriously.

The only place I had yet to roam was Jeb's study, which I'd left for last. I mean, who could blame me? It just _reeks _science in there, even if it's clouded with books.

I turned the knob and opened the door, wanting to facepalm right there.

Have any of you seen that old movie, _The Godfather_? Where the guy with a pencil mustache is always going off about 'making an offer you can't refuse' while sitting in an overly sized armchair while petting his cat named Corleone?

Now, replace Marlon Brando with Ari. I know. It's terrifying, but just will your eyes to close and let your imagination free.

I bet you're asking me this: '_why are we imagining this?_'

Oh, well, it's simple. Ari's in that chair, looking at me while stroking a cat stuffed animal. It's kind of scarring and cheesy, but you know. It's part of the job description of living in a world of wackjobs and scientists.

"Hello, Max," Ari said, continuing to stroke the cat plushie. He raised an eyebrow. "or should I say, Experiment 831A?"

I grit my teeth. Ari would be the one person to bring back memories in an annoying place like this.

I could _so _see 'Where is the Love?' by the Black Eyed Peas playing in the background right now. That would just fit the entire scene perfectly.

"Hello, Ari," I said evenly. I raised my eyebrow like he had done. "or should I say, Jeb's second best?"

He let out a low growl, and I knew I had struck a nerve. Jeb had obviously loved me more than Ari. Why else would he transform him into an Eraser when he was only seven years old, and then escape with me instead of him? I mean, it's kind of traumatic.

And _totally _so easy to use to annoy him.

"So, what've you been up to lately?" I asked him, walking closer to the table. "Ruining lives, putting people in comas, destroying the world..." I trailed off and smirked at him. "I could go on for hours, but I don't think you'd really enjoy hearing about how ugly you are now."

It was true; Ari was hideous. Erasers were meant to be beautiful. I mean, if you were going to make a genetically modified human being, why make it ugly, when you can make it gorgeous? The scientists had clearly gone wrong with all of Ari's testing, though. He had morphed into a wolf too many times to change back into his normal appearance as a human.

If you think working overtime is bad, try stepping in our shoes. They'd be ratty, but still worth it.

"Listen, Max. I've got a deal," Ari said, throwing the cat plushie on the ground beside him.

"Oh? I'm listening." What could he possibly want?

"You come back to the School without any problems, and I won't kill your human friends."

I was steaming. "I'm sorry, _what_? You will _not _touch them!"

Ari sighed, as if he weren't the one arguing, but the one watching me fight with someone else and have to mediate between the two. "You leave me no choice."

He morphed into full eraser, grinning with his sharp teeth, and then lunged at me.

"Oh, so now we're fighting. Oh, fun. Fighting sounds like a good change of direction than usual," I said, thinking out loud, raising my fists in a protective stance.

On the outside, I'm proud to say that I looked like a badass.

But on the inside, I was freaking out. I mean, _seriously. _Didn't people have better things to do than kidnap teenage mutant bird freaks?

* * *

**Woo~ That's a wrap. What do you think about this plot twist thing that's going on? Like it? Hate it? Please, I want your feedback! :D**

**~SilenceIsInfinite**


	18. Chapter 18

**Oh God, don't kill me. Just... This is such a jam packed chapter, and I don't want to make you wait. I'm sorry for not updating... here's my payback.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride, James Patterson does!**

* * *

Now, I tried. Trust me, I did. Remember: I can _see _you shaking your head as you read this. I'm not that stupid, give me credit.

Anyway, back to the story.

The extra years that Ari had spent at the School must have gotten to him (That, or he had _major _grudge problems), because he really wanted revenge on me. It wasn't the whole, '_I thought I could trust you!_' sort of thing. Actually, it was more like the, '_I'm going to rip you to shreds, put you in a blender, and then feed you to my pet chinchilla' _sort of thing. That is, if Ari had a chinchilla. But you know, who cares about the technicalities?

He swiped his hand against my arm, drawing blood. A low growl rose from my throat as my fist connected with his jaw. Ari looked up at me before shaking his head slowly.

That's when he took out a knife.

Immediately, I ran to the bathroom, wrapping a towel against my bleeding arm in a really stupid and clumsy way. I barricaded the door with the hooks from the shower curtain, cursing at the amount of blood flowing. My fingers fumbled with the lock, wet with my own blood, and I couldn't get a grip on it.

Ari was coming. It would be seconds before he would come in, and what if I didn't even make it? I mean, come _on_! After all of these coma inducing fights? It wouldn't be scary, it'd be just plain annoying.

_Bang! Bang! Bang! _Ari pounded his claws on the door of the bathroom. The sound was resounding and full of anger.

"Who is it?" I asked in a singsong voice.

Ari growled. "Open the door, Max!"

"Open the door Max, who?" I asked. Ari's growl turned into a roar.

"I _will _kill you!"

"Huh. I don't get it." I stood to side while opening the door while Ari tumbled onto the ground. Before he could pick himself up, I slammed a roundhouse kick to his temple and watched as he crumpled on the floor, my heart pounding in my ears so loud that I couldn't hear the roaring crack resounding throughout the entire house.

I bent down to move Ari, but the second I touched him, he was cold. Like, cold as _dead_. Frantically, I searched for his pulse, my hands shaking. I may hate the guy, but there wasn't a valid reason to _kill _him.

Oh, God. There had to be a pulse, there just had to be. There were so many things that I were, and I don't think murderer was on that list. Every try, my raptor hearing couldn't pick up a pulse, and I had to come to a conclusion: there wasn't a pulse.

Well, fuck.

If the man upstairs somehow planned that I'd murder someone, they probably thought I'd know where to put the body. But here's my problem: Ari weighs a ton. No, seriously, I bet he weighs that much. It's discerning.

You can't put a dead body anywhere, there are places that police officers look (If someone really cared that Ari was dead), like in closets, under beds, cut up in armchairs - ew - and just about in any cupboard. So, you kind of have to be smart.

There may be a question you're asking me right now: _'Are you sure this is your first murder?' _Well, yes. Yes it is. But you also have to put in account of how fucked up my life is.

_Bury it. _The Voice's obnoxious tone filled my brain, giving me a mental map of where. It was usually all fortune cookie crap, but I guess today it was actually telling me to do something.

So I buried Ari.

It took me an hour, and his weight made it nearly impossible. That, and to drag him into the boulder field and bury him, and _then _roll a boulder over him... It took a long time for the rest of the world to not see me dragging him around in an old comforter like a demented Santa Clause.

My head was spinning while I walked back to the house, and I had to stop for a few seconds every once in a while to catch my breathing. See, I'm not entirely evil (I know, what a surprise), and the fact that Ari's death had been my fault was really awful.

Memories started spinning, and I had to stop walking all together.

Ari, at the School, always looking at me curiously. He never had the glint in his eye, the one that signified that he wanted to kill me. Not even a little bit.

So what happened? I shook my head to rid myself of thinking anymore.

When I finally reached my empty house, I couldn't think straight. Ari was definitely just the first of many, and there were either going to be A) more kills from the assassination-attempts from the School lowlifes or B) someone I loved getting hurt.

I don't really love a lot of people. Like, I don't even trust myself when I say I love my friends, or Fang, or even my mother when she was alive.

There was some creepy voice in the back of my head (There has never been a time where I wished that it wasn't _the _Voice) telling me that I loved these people, every one of them. That, and I needed to save them before something awful happened. All that, and I still wasn't quite sure whether I loved them or not.

...Trust issues suck.

But I needed to do something. _Something, _I thought, thanking whoever the hell is the man upstairs that my dresser wasn't as empty as the rest of the house. My clothes were still there, the skinny jeans and t-shirts just as I left them.

Before I could even process what was happening, I started packing things into a backpack. Clothes, music, pointless crap that I probably wouldn't really need, junk, and my mother's watch.

Never forget the mementos.

Lastly, I placed the presents (Purchased after the burial of Ari) onto the desk, wrapped in old newspaper that I stole from the neighbors.

Tears were welling up in my eyes, but they didn't fall. They just couldn't.

I grabbed the backpack and ran down the stairs after scribbling a note and leaving it on the dresser, hoping that something would go right today.

* * *

The one thing that I really am glad about after moving to Arizona is that it isn't that far from Colorado. Of course, there's a whole state that's huge there, but if I lived in Maine it would have taken me much longer.

Well, if I lived in Maine, this wouldn't be happening.

I had been flying for a long time, and was just crossing the Arizona border into Colorado. I'd stay in Dove Creek, by water and lush trees.

I don't really know when I decided this, but it was pretty weird in the span of flying to another state. Getting my friends out of danger was my top priority.

I just hoped they'd think the same.

* * *

**Fang's POV**

"Max?" I asked, going through the window of Max's balcony into her room. A knotting feeling in my stomach pestered me to think that something was wrong. It hadn't ceased, nor had I see Max come out of her house once today.

Not that I was looking, of course.

"Are you here?" I called out, stepping into her room. It was empty, although the drawers in the dressers were pulled out. Propped on it were objects wrapped in newspaper, as well as a note. With the wind from the open window, I could see the lifted note that was held down by the rock. It was in Max's messy scrawl.

The knot in my stomach turned to a rock. What if Ari had come back? Was she gone, kidnapped, and unable to breathe? Oh God, what if Max was dead?

Unlike the last time, I couldn't contain the fear. I strode towards the dresser, picking up the note. It read:

_To the flock,_

_God, I'm going to regret this, but I'll start out nice: Merry Christmas. Okay, it's late, but I couldn't help that I was comatose. To all of the members of the flock, I hope you like your gifts, because I spent a long time deciding on what to give each of you. On second thought, it wasn't that hard. Can you imagine all the weird looks I got when I was browsing Barbie dolls for Angel? Or when I was surrounded by old women when looking at Elite Scrabble for JJ. No, it wasn't that bad._

_Only I wish that I could have gotten you all presents on such a better notice, and that we could all celebrate. We can't, and I'm sorry for that. I'm serious when I say this: I've been putting the flock in danger. Let's just say that when I was fighting Ari after he busted into my house, he threatened me. Okay, he more like tried to kill me, but that's not the point. Virtually everything I'm doing right now is because I care, oh do I care about you all._

_Even though I'm saying this, if you dare try looking for me, I'll pummel you to shreds. You know I will. Of course, you all know what I'm capable of as the Great Maximum Ride, right? Unless you want to face that, don't come for me; I'm serious._

_Goodbye,_

_Max_

Trying to keep deep, calm breaths, I reread the note several times before returning to my house for a bag. I put all of the presents in, then flipped out my cell phone.

JJ picked up on the third ring. "What do you want, nimrod? Condoms for your kinky sex with Max? Dude, it's late, now either risk getting her pregnant or calm your raging teenage hormones."

"Max is gone, JJ."

_"What?"_

"I...she left a note. Get the flock to meet me at my house right now, all right? You need to see it first."

"Alright, but you're dealing with a pissy Iggy. You know how he gets, especially after that show Brandy and Mr. Whiskers got canceled."

I winced. "How could I forget..."

Once everyone was settled in my living room - I'd even woken up Angel and Gazzy - I read the letter from Max and started giving everyone their gifts from her. I couldn't open mine, though. There was too much on my mind.

"What does this mean?" Ella took the initiative to ask, beginning to unwrap her gift after I handed it to her. Her eyes lit up but then considerably darkened after she opened up a pair of black heels.

"We need to get her, obviously," Sam said, tossing the signed baseball in his hand up and down. "What else are we supposed to do?"

I tapped Iggy's fingers twice before giving him his gift. Iggy ignored the heavy weight in his hand and set it down beside him.

"But didn't she tell us not to?" Angel asked, hugging a plush doll to her chest. She looked at everyone with wide and innocent eyes, glancing back into the button eyes of her doll every so often.

"Yeah," Gazzy said, also not opening his gift, "but didn't she also say that Iggy and I should stop making so many bombs because we worried about her?"

No one laughed at his innocent joke, they were all too warped on their own words, thinking of a solution.

Nudge finally snapped her fingers, and I prayed to whoever was the main leader upstairs that her ramble wouldn't be so long. "Can I see the note again? Maybe there's something in there that Max wrote, something that we can do to find her. Do you think she would have done that?"

"Why would she?" JJ said, sinking back into her chair. A limited edition of Elite Scrabble lay at her feet, but she wasn't taking much attention to it. "She told us not to find her, didn't she?"

With the idea of some hidden message in Max's note, silence overcame the group as we all tried to think of what to do. Were we to stay, to let Max leave our lives, or to go out to who knows where to find her without any clues?

It didn't make any sense to me. Why would Max leave us without giving us any idea of what she was doing. And her note - oh, her note - it didn't even make sense.

"Can everyone open their gifts, now?" Angel asked innocently, clutching her doll's blonde hair with the palm of her hand as she hugged it closer to her. "What if those are connected?"

Those who hadn't opened their gifts had started to, including me. Nudge had received a No-Mistake-Nail Polish in bright pink, Gazzy a slingshot with fifty pellets, Iggy a book written in brail on how to make explosions _legally_.

When I opened my own gift, I sucked in a breath. Another note. I put it into my jeans pocket before inspecting the object before me.

It was a necklace with a few of Max's spotted feathers in a thin, glass pendant. Etched on the back were the words, _Remember me._

"I'm going to the bathroom," I announced, standing up. The necklace, now on, bounced as I trekked down the stairs to the bathroom farthest from the flock. It was as if I were prepared to cry.

For the second time today, I opened another letter by Max.

_To Fang,_

_I can't believe I'm writing this. Knowing that I'm gone, are you alright? It's been a long day for me, and probably for you, too...but let me tell you this. Letting you and the rest of the flock go wasn't what I planned originally, until it stuck. Like when I think about you, I get so immersed in the thought of you that I find myself getting so sick of myself. Especially when I think about you, when I actually write it all down._

_Don't say it's cute, because it's embarrassing, but... I'm going to do two things. Hands down, this is the hardest thing I've ever done, but here we go. I'm so, so, sorry for what I'm doing. Maybe we can meet again, but don't find me; I need to find something first. Fang, it's really important to me, like I'm being drawn there. And even though it could be a trap, I'm still going. Now, here's the second thing. God, I really like you, Fang, it might as well be love...but we'll have to wait._

_And Fang... "There is something delicious about writing the first words of a story. You never quite know where they'll take you."_

_Love,_

_Max_

I hadn't realized it, but the pieces of my heart were becoming smaller as they crunched beneath the weight of what was happening. Her words were circling my head, the Beatrix Potter quote ringing over and over again. _There is something delicious about writing the first words of a story. You never quite know where they'll take you._

Why would she add that in?

Then it struck me.

The first words...

First. Words.

I reread both the notes, retrieving the other from my pocket.

Nudge was right, Max had left a message, and it was our best lead.

The one addressed to all of us said: _Go to CO now. I love you. _The second...

_I killed him, Fang. _

* * *

**Ooooh, suspense... God, I'm so evil. But because this is interesting, I'll really want to update soon. Sorry about the semi cliffhanger, but I'm just awful like that.**

**This will be updated every Tuesday.**

**~SilenceIsInfinite**


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